After
by whitetyger123
Summary: One horrible event causes the lives of two unwilling men to become twisted together. Written by me and schoolgirl-cheesesculpture. AU rated M for swearing, and angry sex between men. Don't read if you don't like.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning! There is a shit load of swearing in this story! And very angry sex!**

Zipping up his jacket against the small autumn breeze, Alfred knocked on the paint-chipped door, looking around the neighbourhood as he did so. He really didn't want to be here, but it was what Matthew would want, so he needed to do it. Even if the bastard didn't deserve to even talk to him. He put his hands in his pockets and sighed. It really was too bad that it came to this, but it was the least he could do.

Opening his door, Ismael almost wasn't surprised to see Alfred standing there, not making eye contact with him. He should have been expecting it, after all. Without a word, he stepped back, the door still open, and went back into his house. He sat down on the couch after bringing a chair over for his unwanted guest.

Looking around the house for a second, the American continued to look at the floor with glassy eyes. At least he was aware enough to have taken his shoes off at the door. Without trying to sound caring, he asked bluntly. "Why weren't you at the funeral?" Alfred's cerulean eyes were trained on his white socks, refusing to look at the Cuban.

Leaning back, Ismael looked out the window, wishing he was anywhere but here. "Figured I wasn't welcome. Who would want the person that turned him gay to be there, right?" He had gone there after the funeral, though, and every day since.

"Matthew would have wanted you to be there. I hope you realize that." Pausing for a few moments to keep himself from getting too emotional around his self-sworn enemy, Alfred added. "As much as I hate you, you were a big part of his life. I can't pretend as if you didn't make him happy somehow."

Giving an ironic, cold laugh, the Cuban looked at him for really the first time. "Yeah, sure." At first glance, he really did look like Matthew. But he noticed the differences. How Alfred's eyes were brighter, instead of the dark blue shade he was used to. Not to mention the fact that he didn't look cute at all.

Shrugging, Alfred snorted. "Hey, I tried. Matthew couldn't shut up about how much he cared for you." At least, it seemed that way to the older blond. After all, just hearing the name 'Ismael' made him angry anyways. It wasn't like he listened too much after hearing it was about his brother's gay lover. As much as he didn't like it, it made sense Matthew would turn out to be gay with him being so shy and innocent. "You should have been there."

Shaking his head, Ismael almost couldn't believe it. "You really have no idea, do you? Care for me? Your brother would do the same for anyone. The only reason he went out with me was because I loved him." Leaning forward, he gave a smirk. "No, it wasn't _my_ name he moaned when he came."

"Dude, I really don't want to hear about that. I don't swing that way, and it's way too soon." Though the American couldn't help but wonder just what Ismael meant by that statement. Whose name _would_ Matthew have called out if it wasn't his lover's? "I still don't get why you didn't go. At least I can act like a fucking gentleman for my dead brother and respect the person he loved."

"It wasn't just you I had to worry about, it was your whole fucking family." He grumbled, taking out a cigarette and lighting it up. "Besides, I don't make it a habit of being civil to my love rival." Even if Matthew was dead now, he was still jealous.

Scoffing, Alfred snarled. "At least you're smart enough to realize we all hated you, not to mention-" He quickly stopped as he thought of the last part of the Cuban's statement. "What the fuck do you mean, love rival? Which other gay bastard went to Mattie's funeral that was in love with him?"

Standing up, Ismael walked over to him, stubbing out his cigarette on the way. This guy was really starting to piss him off. "You really don't get it, do you." Then he roughly grabbed the back of Alfred's head, bringing him close for a forced kiss. "I wonder how much Matt would have given to be able to do that?"

Frantically rubbing the taste of ash and vanilla from his mouth on his shoulder, Alfred stood up and yelled. "What the hell was that for? And what do you mean, 'how much he would have given to do that'?" What was Ismael trying to get at? Did he seriously think that he would believe that his now dead brother was secretly in love with him?

"Believe what you want. I don't have to explain anything to you." Ismael went into the kitchen, not wanting to see him anymore. "Was the only reason you came to ask me why I wasn't at the funeral? If it was, you have your answers, now get the fuck out of my house."

"No no no." Alfred started, shaking his head with a grim laugh. "You're not getting out of it that easily. Just stop being so fucking cryptic and tell me, and don't even think about lying." He was _this_ close to punching the shit out of him, but his small, rational side knew it wouldn't get him what he wanted right now. "Tell me what my brother wanted before he died."

Turning to him, Ismael leaned against the counter. "If you really want to know, he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to fuck you so bad. Well, actually he wanted you to fuck _him_, but who cares about fucking specifics now?" He had hated this guy before he even met him, knowing he was the reason he could never have Matthew's heart fully. He was just a charity case, because Matthew was too nice and caring to say no to him.

Not able to stop himself, Alfred watched from behind his own eyes as his fist went flying out and connected with the side of Ismael's face. "Don't you dare say shit like that about my brother. What kind of fucked up dream are you living in? Or are you so baked that you don't even know the fucked up lies that you're pulling out of your ass?" Another punch but to the Cuban's gut until Alfred stopped, panting slightly.

"So now you're not just a gay hater, but a gay beater too?" Ismael threw his own punch, feeling his fist connect with Alfred's jaw bone. "Well, unlike your brother, I can fight back!"

"I don't hate gays, I just hate you." The blond grunted as he grabbed the front of Ismael's shirt and started to punch his face. At the same time, Ismael had started throwing his own punches and kicks, making Alfred start to get winded. It wasn't until he suddenly felt blood dripping into his eye that he let go and took a step back. "Stop trying to live out your sick fantasies. I know my brother loved me because we're family. It's just you who doesn't know what it's liked to be loved by a family and who seems to think that it was the same as wanting to fuck each other senseless."

Wiping some blood off his lip, Ismael stepped closer. "He didn't love you like a brother. He loved you like this." With that he once again forced their lips together, but didn't let go this time. His lips moved over Alfred's immobile ones, but it wasn't till he grabbed at the shorter man's crotch that he was pushed away.

Alfred's face held no hint of being amused. "So what are you, the guy all the gays send to turn all the straight ones? Do you tell them all that their dead brother wanted to fuck them?" There was no way he was going to take this big news without a fight. It wasn't like he was even thinking about guys like that before hand, and what was supposed to be a quick meeting ended up with them both bleeding and Alfred questioning just why the kiss didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. "Or are you doing this for your own benefit now? Maybe then I'll want to be with you since you were with my brother."

Sneering, Ismael put his hands on either side of Alfred on the counter. "You're just a pussy. Afraid of being gay, afraid of incest. Maybe afraid to be like your brother."

"I'm not afraid of anything. I'm Alfred-Fucking-Jones." With that, Alfred couldn't have stopped himself from grabbing the sides of Ismael's face and roughly pressing their lips together. Since he wasn't quite sure what to do, he just pretended as if Ismael was a girl and continued to kiss him, completely taking dominance of the embrace.

Kissing back violently, Ismael just let all his frustrations go from the past week and a half ago into the kiss. Putting both hands on Alfred's hips, the Cuban pushed him up onto the counter. He hated this guy for being so close to Matthew, but they didn't have to like each other to kiss. One of his hands went into Alfred's hair, and pulled his head harshly to the side so he could start biting and sucking at his neck.

With a grunt, Alfred pulled Ismael's dreads back so he could attack the other's lips again; nipping and sucking them to the point of opening up the wound on his lips. "This is your 'punishment' for my bro 'loving' me huh? Now I'm gonna get your gay AIDS and die." Still, he shoved his leg in between the darker man's and rubbed his crotch harshly.

"What, _afraid_ of that too?" Ismael panted out, pushing his hands under Alfred's shirt and forcing it up. He went to one of the nipples, biting it cruelly. "You really don't look like him, now that I see you like this." But the fact that they had the same freckle above their belly button pissed him off.

Digging his nails into Ismael's shoulders, Alfred hissed. "Shut the fuck up. Stop talking about him." After all, he didn't want to think about his brother doing this with the guy he hated, never mind the fact that he seemingly was going to do it now.

Lifting Alfred's shirt completely off, Ismael pushed him into the wall. "I have as much of a right to talk about him as you do." Next he started working on his pants, even though he could tell the blond hesitated. "Don't worry, they always say it's the one who gives the blow job that's gay, right?"

"I don't fucking care, just don't talk about him." At this point he was so upset and yet intrigued by the game they had going on, that he wouldn't even blink an eye if Ismael made him give the Latino man a blow job. "And take your fucking shirt off. I don't want to be the only one who's naked."

Lifting it up, the Cuban threw it on the other side of the room. "Didn't know you were such a romantic." He said sarcastically before kneeling down between Alfred's legs. "How will it feel to have a mouth on you that was sucking of your brother?"

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up about him." Alfred hissed, grabbing his cock in one hand and pulling Ismael's head closer. Stroking a few times to make it harder, he then pressed it against the willing mouth, grunting as the mouth immediately put suction on the head. "Shit..."

Bobbing his head down, Ismael took Alfred's full length, feeling it go down his throat. Then slowly he brought it out, running his teeth along it the whole way. Soon he started playing with his balls, not really caring if he liked it or if he was squeezing too hard.

Shaking lightly, the American continued to let Ismael do whatever he wanted. Really, he was much too sensitive since his last girlfriend was more than a month ago. "They weren't lying when they said that gays really know how to suck cock. It's probably cause it's a food group for all of you." He gave a shaky laugh; grabbing the back of Ismael's head to make up for the fact.

Growling slightly, Ismael dug his nails into Alfred's thigh. He talks about gays when he's having his cock sucked by one? The guy must be an incredible idiot to be bashing him when he had a very sensitive organ in his mouth.

"Fuck..." He groaned, feeling himself getting even closer to climaxing. Before he could, he pulled Ismael away with a sharp tug, pathetically aroused by the picture of his leaking cock close to his puffy, spit-slicked lips. Before he could stop himself, he quickly jerked himself off the edge and smirked when his cum shot out in long, sticky bursts. Tilting back Ismael's head, he continued to milk himself, laughing deep in his chest.

Feeling the warm fluid on his face, Ismael stood up. "What the fuck, you ass hole! This is how you treat the guy who just sucked you off?" He grabbed Alfred by the hair, forcing his head close to his face. "Lick it off, you fucker."

Alfred glared at the other's coal black eyes even with the close distance. "Fuck no! I'm not licking my jizz off your disgusting face." He tried pulling back but between the hand and getting pressed against the wall, he couldn't move away.

"It's your fault it's on my face now lick it off before I bite your dick off!" Just to prove he was serious, Ismael grabbed Alfred's now-flaccid cock, squeezing it around the base.

His eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't. You're too much for the cock to hurt something you get on your knees to worship. I bet you're going to brag to all your gay friends that you got a straight guy to cum on your face."

Mouth set in a harsh line, Ismael once again dropped to his knees and brought the appendage to his open lips.

Blanching, Alfred recoiled. "What the hell's wrong with you? Fine, but I'm not licking it off. I'll just... Use my fingers or something." Would he have seriously bit it off? No wonder Matthew only went out with him for 'pity'.

Standing up, Ismael leaned closer. "Fine, but that means I'm fucking you." He hadn't really planned for it to go this far, but it didn't matter anymore. Well, he hadn't planned on any of this happening, but nothing changed the fact that Matthew was dead.

"Who said there's going to be any fucking anyways?" Alfred snarled, not liking just how out of his element he was around another naked man who he knew for a fact was gay. All it did was make him more aggressive.

"You know what, fuck this, this shit ain't worth it." Ismael reached around Alfred and picked up his shirt that had 'America fuck yeah' scrawled across the front, and used it to wipe off his face. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Looking at his ruined shirt, the American grimaced. "I'm not wearing that thing now, and I'm definitely not wearing your shirt either; it smells like ass and ashtrays." With them still naked, he just grabbed Ismael's wrist as he started to walk away and pulled him back. "Plus I'm not backing out now. Not after a queer sucked me off."

Sighing, Ismael turned back around. "God you're such a dick. Fine, if you want it so bad, then open up your legs." He hadn't done this with anyone else since he had started going out with Matthew, so this felt sort of alien to him, but he was quickly remembering from his days when he would sleep with any guy who was willing.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that against a wall, dip shit?" He retorted, glaring down the tanned Cuban. If anything, he was only doing this because he had to prove that he wasn't afraid of gays or his enemy.

Putting his hands on Alfred's legs, Ismael started pushing them apart. "The wall is to your back, what the hell does that have to do with opening your legs?" God, how was this idiot related to Matthew so closely as to be his twin? Maybe all the smart genes went to the younger, as well as all the cute, nice ones.

Glaring, he snapped. "Wait, you want to do this on a fucking counter?" This guy was lucky enough to get his man-cherry, so he better not think he could do it in a weird place.

"You want to go to the bed? What, do all straight guys have no sense of adventure, or is it just you? Do you wanna hear where Matthew liked doing it?" He wasn't sure why he kept bringing him up. Maybe it was just because it pissed Alfred off so much. Or maybe it was his way of keeping him alive.

"Fine, if it gets you to shut up about him." Alfred finally snapped, his face turning red from embarrassment and anger. All he wanted was to have a one night stand with his enemy/brother's ex lover and then forget about it. He didn't want to get constantly reminded that his brother was doing these things just a few weeks ago with this very person in this very place. "It's like you wished you were fucking him instead now."

Pushing Alfred's legs apart, Ismael realized that he didn't have any lube with him. Where had he put that last bottle... "Of course I would rather be fucking him. You think I like doing it with straight guys?" He quickly went to the living room, searching in the couch cushions. He was rewarded with a bottle that was already half empty. He went back to the kitchen, already squeezing some out. "He liked doing it on the washing machine. Said it made good vibrations."

Wincing as his mind tried to imagine it, he just shook his head before grabbing Ismael. "Shut the fuck up and kiss me before I remember my cock was in your mouth." That and before he continued to imagine just what his twin did with this man. How could he have even fallen for such a douche?

Pushing their lips together, Ismael was reminded of his split lip as it started to burn slightly. Not that it hurt much, it was just kind of annoying. Then he slipped the first finger into Alfred's hole, and saw him stiffen up. Giving a laugh, the Cuban started thrusting his finger. "What, didn't know this is what gays used?"

"It's not like I sit at home imagining what gay sex is like for all you STD whores." Alfred spat, grimacing at the awkward intrusion. Well, he knew it was only going to get worse from here, but he was totally ready for it. As long as Ismael wasn't hung like a horse, he could handle it.

"If you think I have an STD, why the hell are you letting me fuck you?" Ismael spat, annoyed by how much this guy believed in the stereotype. He shoved another finger in, taking way less time to stretch him than he had ever taken with Matthew. Even when he was used to it, he would always make sure there was almost no resistance before continuing.

Not quite sure what to say but still thoroughly pissed, Alfred grabbed Ismael's dreads and pulled their lips together violently. Immediately he got to work on biting and licking the other's lips, trying to get them to bleed again. At least then they would both be in pain.

Pulling away with a grimace, Ismael wiped the line of blood from his lip on Alfred's chest. "I'm glad Matthew was with me. It would have been horrible if you fucked him." He would have either tried pretending Matthew was a girl, and therefore totally ignore his needs in the front, or he would have been rough with him because he would blame him for ruining his previously straight record.

"That's only if I even agreed to fuck him in the first place." He had half a mind to tell Ismael to just hurry up, but already the two fingers were feeling somewhat forced in his virgin hole. The counter he was sitting on was finally warm yet he still wanted to go to a bed, even if it would seem more intimate.

Pushing in a third finger, Ismael was amazed by how tight it was. "Yeah, you wouldn't fuck him. But you seem fine getting fucked by his boyfriend." Even if Matthew was dead, Ismael still wanted to call himself his boyfriend, just another effort to hold onto him. Like this poorly thought out sexual encounter in the kitchen with his brother.

"Just drop it ok? You're not his boyfriend anymore. Just fucking drop it." Even as he tried to keep ignoring what they were about to do, every time his brother was mentioned a pain went through his heart. He really did love his twin, and the more Ismael talked about doing this with him, the more upset he got. Alfred F. Jones didn't get upset, he got even, and that was why he was sitting on a counter with three fingers up his ass preparing himself for gay sex with his enemy. At least, that's what he told himself.

Taking his fingers out, Ismael lifted an eyebrow in a taunt. "Fine. Well by the sound of things, you're ready." Even if he knew perfectly well that Alfred was still much too tight to take a cock comfortably, but hurting him would be part of the fun. After all, this was pretty much a continuation of their fight earlier.

Reacting just as Ismael was lining his cock up with his now stretched hole, Alfred all but kicked the Cuban away. "Put a fucking condom on you cock whore. I don't want whatever diseases you have up my ass."

"I got tested before I first had sex with Matthew, and I haven't done it with anyone since. So unless you think I got something from him then shut the fuck up, pussy lover!" It's not like he had any condoms anyway, since him and Matthew had stopped using them about a month after they got together.

"I told you to fucking drop it!" The blond yelled, hanging his head with his eyes closed. After a second, he looked back up to Ismael with a harsh glare. "Fine, just fuck me and let me go."

Going forward again, Ismael grabbed his cock and put it to Alfred's hole, pushing in steadily. "So what, you just wanna forget about him? Pretend as if he never existed, never talk about him? Sorry _Al_," He said the name venomously, "but I'm not that cold."

Alfred opened his mouth to lash out at Ismael, but he was cut off by his own groan of pain. "Shit! Fucking hell you dick, stop pushing in!" Fuck it hurt! Yeah he didn't expect getting a cock up his ass for the first time to be immediately pleasurable, but he didn't think it would feel like he was getting torn apart from the ass hole up.

"No, you wanted this, you fucking man whore so take it!" He had been planning to stop and let Alfred adjust, but this made him push all the way in before allowing him a few seconds to get used to it. Still, he didn't start thrusting, because he at least didn't want him to bleed down there. Just be in pain.

"Shit shit shit shit..." Alfred kept up a steady mantra of swearing and shifting to try and get more comfortable with the dick up his hole. "How can you enjoy this?" He hissed venomously, knowing full well his body was squeezing around Ismael to the point of intense pain.

Instead of giving a verbal answer, Ismael moved back and thrust, aiming for the prostate. When he hit it, he saw Alfred's eyes go wide and back arch. "_That_ is how we can enjoy this. Look how hard you got after one thrust, slut."

"Sh-Shut the fuck up!" Alfred stuttered, hating himself for showing such a weakness. But... It really did feel good. Definitely not as good though as pounding into a girl's pussy. "And I'm not a slut, slut."

Thrusting again, still fairly slow, Ismael leaned over, nipping at Alfred's nipple. "You sure as hell look like a slut." With his legs open wide, a layer of sweat covering his body, and head thrown back like it was. Definitely nothing like Matthew.

Alfred dug his nails into Ismael's back, forcing them to get closer so he could bruise and lick the skin around his neck and collar bone. "Well you're the one acting like a slut, having sex with your boyfriend's twin after he died. Maybe the reason you keep talking about him and how he wanted me because you were the one who wanted to see it. Could you only get off if you imagined your boyfriend and his twin having incestuous sex?"

Before he could think, Ismael's fist knocked into Alfred's cheek. "You don't fucking know anything!" He yelled, hands now going around the smaller man's neck, pressing down just enough to make it hard for him to breathe properly. "You don't fucking know what it was like, having the one you love being in love with his fucking brother! When we first got together, you know what he said? He told me straight out that he would never truly be in love with me! Do you know what it's like to have your lover scream out someone else's name when they cum! Do you?" He let go, stepping away, a wet trail being left behind as his cock fell out. "I wish it was you who fucking died."

Sitting on the counter in shock, Alfred allowed himself a few seconds to get his breath back. Was Ismael just fucking with him again, or was he dead serious? It definitely didn't seem as if he was making up the hurt look in his eyes. "No one needed to die Ismael, it wasn't like they meant to kill him." He commented, not quite sure why he felt like comforting the bastard.

"Bringing a gun to hold up a corner store, sure as hell sounds like they meant to kill someone." The worst part was that Matthew was there to buy _him_ cigarettes. Said he was going that way anyway, coming to his house, said it was no big deal. He turned away, looking out the window. "I need someone to blame." Besides himself, of course, because he had been blaming himself so much these past few weeks that he was having nightmares that it was him pulling the trigger.

Alfred slipped off the counter with a grimace before walking over to Ismael. "Then don't fucking blame me, blame the guy." He could feel himself reaching out to touch the other man's shoulder, but he stopped himself as a sharp pain when up his spine from being stretched.

Moving away, Ismael didn't even care that he was walking around his house naked, with an erection sticking out. "Trust me, if I blamed you, you would know it already. I only hate you from before. I mostly blame myself."

Torn between wanting to stay and be upset together and wanting to get the fuck out of there, Alfred went with the latter and grabbed his clothes from the floor. Every once in a while he would make a grunt of pain, but once all but his shirt was on again - his erection willed away- he muttered. "I'm getting the fuck out of here just like you wanted." Pausing at the door, he added. "And don't put off visiting Matthew." Even with all of his comments, Alfred couldn't help but feel that Ismael over exaggerated. Matthew was happy with Ismael... Wasn't he?

Walking into his bedroom, the Cuban didn't know what to do. He didn't want to deal with his erection, so he just left it, but his anger and pain was still there. "Argh!" He yelled, punching a hole in the wall. Shaking out his hand, he swore under his breath. After all the punches today, he was surprised it wasn't broken.

**So, here it is! We will be posting this every Tuesday. Not sure exactly how long it will be... But we hope everyone will enjoy a rare pairing!**


	2. Chapter 2

Downing his fifth - or was it his tenth? Did it really matter, they were both multiples of five- shot of tequila in the last hour, Alfred smacked his lips and rested his head on the bar. It had only been a day since he fucked around with Ismael, but now that he was plastered he really couldn't care about the fact that he had a cock up his ass. Signalling to the bartender for another, he got it in his hand before pulling out his cell. He had been thinking about just how much of a bitch his brother's ex was, and now he wanted to tell him.

Going through his contact list he managed to find Ismael's number under his brother's contacts (it was just in case he was there, so Alfred could make sure he was ok). Dialling, he waited until the sounds of the answering machine finished and he just let himself ramble. "Hey bastard cock sucker, guess who? Yeah, just wanna let y'know how much of an ass hole you are, ass hole. I bet your fucking some poor blond ass right about now, so you couldn't answer your fucking phone. Fucking queer." With that he raised his glass to his lips and finished the shot with a gasp. "You just wish you were like me, don't ya? Go die of AIDS or something."

Alfred barely remembered closing his phone before he lay his head back on the bar. Just how many bartenders were there anyways? Just as he reached out to hold them still so he could count, his eyes grew heavy and black overtook his senses.

Looking at the guy who was passed out, the bartender poked him. "Hey buddy, come on I have to close up here." But it was no use, this guy had obviously had way too many. He saw a cell phone on the table, so he opened it and found recent calls. Pressing the last number, he waited for the person to pick up.

Peeking out from under his blankets, Ismael glared at his phone. This was the second time it had rung in ten minutes! He grabbed it angrily, wishing they would just let him wallow in peace. "What the hell do you want?" He grumbled into the phone.

"Hello sir, sorry to bother you but there is a guy passed out on my bar and you were the last person he called. Can you come and pick him up?" Hopefully this person would, since he never liked having to house the drunks who passed out.

Grunting, Ismael looked at the caller ID. That number kind of looked familiar... yeah that's right, Matthew sometimes called him on the number. But who would... Oh fuck. "God, you're kidding. Fucking ass hole. Which bar?"

.oOo.

"Thank you, and please make sure he knows not to get this drunk here again." The bartender said as he closed down the bar. It was always so troublesome when people passed out since that meant he couldn't just kick them out.

"No problem. Just wish there was someone else who could deal with him." He picked up the unconscious man, throwing him over his shoulder unceremoniously. He had listened to the message on his phone, unable to believe how drunk he had gotten.

Leaving the bar, he threw Alfred in his back seat, trying to do up his seat belt. What had made it so he was the one who had to take him home? So fucking retarded. Driving the way he knew too well, Ismael parked the car, and went to the back to pick him up again. "You better have your keys." He mumbled, feeling around in Alfred's jacket. Finally he found them, and after a few failed attempts he got the door open.

This place reminded him too much of Matthew. It had always bugged him that they lived together, but of course the blond refused to move out. Walking past Matthew's room, he opened the door to Alfred's, and tossed him on the bed. That was good enough.

On his way out, Ismael passed a bookshelf with a ton of pictures of Matthew. He looked so... happy, looking at Alfred, who was obviously the one taking the pictures. He looked around for a piece of paper and a pen, and quickly scrawled a note on it. He took one of the pictures, leaving the note in the frame, and left.

* * *

Sorry for the epic fail chapter. My computer is fail right now, like really really fail. So you will all just have to deal with this, very sorry. Also if I don't reply to your reviews, that is usually the reason. Keep your fingers crossed for my computer!


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning was definitely not one of Alfred's favourite days. Sure he had woken up with hangovers like this before, but it was never a good sign when he passed out in one place and woke up in another. At least he knew where he was this time and for the time being, had no idea just what made him drink that much to begin with. Well, he could barely think over his headache anyway. "God dammit..." He groaned, rubbing his face as he sat up in bed.

Who took him home anyways? He didn't phone anyone to ask, and he was one hundred percent sure he didn't slip in a plea for a ride in his hate message to Ismael. Though as long as he wasn't raped, he figured it was ok. Well, his ass didn't hurt like after his failed attempt at gay sex.

When his headache subsided for a moment, he got up and went into his kitchen. Grabbing the advil, he downed two and chased it down with a small sip of water. Hopefully that would keep the pain at bay. Alfred looked over to his bookcase at all the pictures of him and Matthew as if he was told to by his brain and was surprised at what he saw. Frowning, he went over to the one picture frame that was now empty and saw a note in its place.

It only took a second before Alfred went back to his room and changed into clean clothes. He was going to go and show that son of a bitch that he didn't deserve what he did. Even if he was the one to give him a ride, it didn't give Ismael an excuse to steal his stuff!

Driving to Ismael's house, Alfred glared at all the light outside at all the noise. Seriously, was the whole world trying to piss him off right now? Still, he needed to go and give the gay Cuban a piece of his mind and get the picture back.

It wasn't until he almost broke down the other guy's door that he realized he wasn't there. Just his luck too that his headache seemed to want to come back. But if he wasn't home, where else could he be? Would he be... Well, it was the only other place that made sense unless he was already at a bar somewhere.

Alfred got back in his car and sombrely drove to the graveyard where Matthew was buried. He felt bad that he had nothing to leave at the grave if Ismael wasn't there, but he would just have to get more flowers the next time then. It was only a short walk from where he parked and he could see the tall form standing in front of his brother's grave. Of course he would be here, the ass. "Finally came to say goodbye?"

Sighing, Ismael turned away. "I don't need company here." Dammit, why did he have to come? It didn't even bother him that Alfred thought this was the first time he was here. Who cared what he thought, anyway? The only problem was that he had interrupted his story to Matthew about how he had found a perfect maple leaf today.

"You took a picture." He waited for a few seconds, watching as Ismael kept his eyes trained on the tombstone. "At least look at me when we talk."

Still not turning around, Ismael chose his words carefully. He didn't want to fight in front of Matthew's grave. "You have a million pictures of him. What's the problem with me just having one? Like my note said, it was my fee for taking you home."

"I didn't say you couldn't have a picture, you just can't have that one." Alfred frowned, stepping closer. "And I said look at me. Matthew can't hear you anymore."

"No." Ismael said, still looking at the tombstone.

Growling, he grabbed the other man's shoulders and forced his body to face his own. "I said look at me!" It wasn't until he yelled out that he noticed the tear tracks down his face. Alfred swallowed nervously but didn't let go. "I want that picture back. Please." He added in spite.

Wiping at his face, Ismael instinctually put his hand on his jacket pocket, where he had put the picture. "It's just one picture. You seriously hate me that much that you can't let me have one picture?" He had never been able to take pictures of Matthew, he always said it was too embarrassing. But he had let Alfred take all those pictures of him, of course.

Letting go, Alfred put his hands in his pockets and looked to the ground. "It's just that one. If you want you can come look at the rest and choose a different one, but I need that one."

"What's so special about it?" He had just picked one of the pictures, not knowing it was held so dearly by Alfred. He started taking it out of his pocket, but paused, wanting the answer first. Maybe if he held out, he could get more than one picture.

"It's nothing you would care about." Alfred snapped, looking back to Ismael. "You can have as many as you want, I just need that one." He knew he sounded pathetic now, but that picture meant more to him than any of the others.

Taking the picture out, Ismael passed it to him. "You better keep that promise. What's so good about this picture?" He really wanted to know now, since Alfred was being so insistent. He really didn't want to deal with this guy, but if he could get more pictures...

Snatching the picture from his hand, the American admitted. "This was the last picture I got of him before he died... It was maybe just a couple days before..." He could feel his own eyes start to get glossy, but he promised himself he wouldn't cry in front of the enemy.

Nodding, Ismael looked back to the grave stone. "Can we go get some pictures now?" He waited for the hesitant nod, before stepping closer to the grave, and putting the perfect maple leaf amongst all the flowers. "Alright, let's go."

Not bothering to see if Ismael was following, Alfred asked over his shoulder. "Did you drive or walk here?" He really hoped he wouldn't have to be around Ismael any longer, but if he had to give him a ride then he would.

"Walked. My place is only about ten minutes from here." Which was good, because it meant he could visit Matthew more often. He probably spent more time at his grave than he spent with him when he was still alive.

Sighing, Alfred asked. "D'ya want a ride then?" He really didn't want to be civil to the man who stole his brother and made him gay, but it was the least he could do when they were around his twin's grave.

Looking back at Matthew's grave, Ismael prayed to whoever could hear him to give him the strength to not fight. "Sure. I deserve it after I had to carry your heavy body last night." The wind started blowing, making the yellowing trees move.

"I'm not fat if that's what you mean." He grumbled as they walked to his car. Getting into the drivers seat, he barely waited for Ismael to get inside before he was driving off toward his house. He still hadn't stepped into Matthew's room since his death, and Alfred was hoping that Ismael wouldn't expect to be allowed either.

They rode in silence, neither looking at each other. Ismael thought back to a night, so long ago, when Matthew had begged him to give Alfred a chance, to not hate him. At the time, he had said it was impossible. That was definitely the truth, as they could both feel their hate for each other.

Getting to his house, he slammed the car door shut once he was out and stormed up to the front door. "You can choose any of them here, but I'll beat the shit out of you if you even breath into Mattie's room."

Rolling his eyes, Ismael looked at the pictures. "I was probably in there more than you were when he was alive, so why am I the one that's banned?" He picked a few where Matthew looked the happiest, one he had obviously just finished a hokey game, another he was playing in the snow, and the third he was watching the sun set, and had this lovely, far away look in his eyes. He figured these would be the best out of them all.

"'Cause I haven't been in there since he died, and you're sure as fuck not going to be the first one." Alfred really didn't need to think of just what they did in there, especially when he wasn't home to stop them. He always dealt with the Cuban just for Matthew, but now he was getting seriously pissed off that he was still in his home.

Annoyed, Ismael took the three pictures. "Fine. I'm leaving. Next time you get drunk, arrange a ride before hand cause I won't do it again." He walked out of the house, unable to deal with all the memories of Matthew that were there. The whole house was like a shrine to him, and the fact that Alfred had not gone in his room yet just proved that more so.

Hearing the door shut, Alfred sighed. He really hated being at home now since it reminded him so much of Matthew. Just being alone inside felt as if he was going to suffocate from all the memories... Just being alone...

Despite his hatred for the Cuban, the blond went to the door and opened it, glad to see that he wasn't too far. "Hey Ismael!" He yelled, getting his attention. "Come back."

Turning around, he frowned. "Why? You wanna punch me or something?"

"Look," he started, rubbing his neck. "I know we both hate each other, but I really can't stay here alone. Can... Can you stay here for a bit? I promise I wont rip your head off or anything. I just can't be around all of Matthew's stuff."

Walking back, Ismael pushed past him. "If you don't like being around his stuff, then get rid of it." It was stupid to keep holding onto it after Matthew was dead. Keep the things that were important, and if he really didn't want to sell the rest, he could put them in storage.

"You're the one who was crying over his fucking grave. At least I care about what he was like when he was alive, not now that he's dead." Alfred ground his teeth together to keep himself from lashing out at Ismael. "I can't just pretend as if I never had a twin. And you think it was bad, losing a lover. Try losing the only other person who knew every little thing about you, from how you like to brush your teeth to just the right words to make you cry your heart out over a bad relationship in order to heal."

"Too bad you didn't know much about him." Ismael said quietly, looking over the pictures once again. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't jealous of Alfred. At least Matthew had told him his real feelings, instead of hiding them away.

Holding himself back from hurting Ismael again, Alfred sneered. "What do you mean, I didn't know much about him. He and I lived together! I knew that he would always moan about how much he cared about you, and the fact that you were so perfect for each other and that 'Ismael was the perfect person to turn gay for'." Seeing the neutral expression on his face, the American yelled. "How can you stand there and be so calm you bastard?"

Stepping closer, Ismael grabbed Alfred's hand, and even when he tried to pull it away, he pressed it to his own chest, making him feel his heart beat. "You feel that? I'm not calm. And I haven't been since I tried calling Matthew, only to have a nurse pick it up and tell me that she was sorry, but he was dead. How could I be calm?"

Alfred paused for a moment, his hand curling into a fist against Ismael's chest. "I was there... I watched him die." Even with his tough attitude, tears were trying to get past his eyelids as he closed them in defeat.

"You... you were..." Ismael said, slightly shocked. But he shouldn't be. Of course they would call his brother, it only made sense. Hell, Matthew probably asked them to, so he could see him just one last time. "Fuck I hate you." He mumbled, going to sit on the couch. Things were getting so fucked up.

"Well the feeling is mutual!" He snapped, going into the kitchen. There wasn't much for alcohol in the fridge, but he did have some beer. Hopefully that'd be better than nothing. Plus if worse came to worse he could just buy some vodka or something and drink it straight up. "Hey fucker, do you want some beer?" Alfred wasn't quite sure why he offered, but it was proabably the last couple years of having to be polite around Ismael for his twin.

Leaning back, Ismael looked for the remote for the TV. "Sure, whatever." If he was going to stay here, then he might as well be comfortable. Flipping through the channels, he finally found something good that was on.

Throwing the can at him, the blond went and sat in his chair. Why the hell did he want Ismael here in the first place? Oh right, so it wouldn't be so awkward. Hah. "... What the fuck are you watching?" He asked, nose crinkling in disgust.

"Project Runway." He said simply, guarding the remote. He had started watching it because Matthew liked it, and then he got hooked himself. "Wouldn't expect a straight like you to enjoy it, so feel free to go into another room."

"..." Alfred just watched for a few seconds before gulping back his beer. "You're so fucking gay it's hilarious." With a snort he drank more from his can. Damn beer having barely any alcohol in it.

"Yeah, I'm surprised you let me in your house, knowing how gay I am. You probably think it's contagious, since you practically let me fuck you the other day." Even if they hadn't finished. Not that he really wanted to, though, considering how much he hated Alfred.

Bristling, Alfred hissed. "Almost, but it doesn't mean anything if neither of us came from it." And plus he wasn't gay, he was just doing it to prove a point. Matthew was the only one who was going to swing the other way in his family.

Getting off the couch from an impulse, Ismael went closer to Alfred. "Then maybe we should continue? I promise this time I will make you cum." He wasn't really sure if he was serious, or just wanted to rile him up some more. Maybe the later, because it felt weird with them being so civil to each other.

Glaring up at Ismael's broad form, he just snorted. "Good try, but I know you're just looking for a quick fuck. Plus I don't have any lube around." And he sure as fuck wasn't going to do it dry with how painful it was with stretching and lubrication. Opening another can of beer, he downed half of it in one chug. "I'm not angry enough to care either."

Sitting down beside Alfred, but not too close, Ismael gave a small laugh. "Not like I would do it anyways. I was just trying to play with you a little." He continued watching the show, trying to ignore the voice in his head asking why the hell he was still here.

Alfred continued to sit there awkwardly, once in a while taking another sip of his beer. Eventually he grew bored of trying to watch hot chicks be models and eyed the remote beside Ismael. Planning out his attack, he waited until the other man shifted a bit before jumping over him to grab the remote. "AhHA!" He yelled, getting a hold of it.

"Hey!" Ismael yelled, then grabbed Alfred by the crotch. He was surprised, and the Cuban took the opportunity to grab the remote back. "That's why you never fight with a gay guy."

Beating back his blush, Alfred growled. "That was low man." Only waiting a second, he launched himself again to get the remote, this time backing up once he had it so he could push Ismael back with his feet. "I'll kick your teeth in if you try to get it back." He warned, changing it to a football game.

Grabbing one of the feet, Ismael licked his tongue up the bottom of it before sucking the big toe into his mouth. "Now change it back."

"You dirty fucker! I'm not changing it back!" Alfred snapped, pushing Ismael's face away with his other foot. That was disgusting! Who knew just what was on his feet in the first place? Did all gay guys get off on sucking each other's feet and cocks or what?

Pouncing on him, Ismael pinned him down to the couch, holding his wrists so tight they would probably bruise. "Give me the fucking remote, dammit!" The only reason he ever watched football was to look at the asses. He would much rather watch hockey.

Snarling, Alfred almost spat in Ismael's face but stopped with the position. "Get the fuck off me." He tried bucking him off, but it only made him hold on tighter. "I'm not changing the fucking channel! It's my house anyways!"

"You're the one who begged me to stay, so I should be able to pick what I wanna watch." Ismael looked down at him, seeing how apprehensive he was about their position. "Am I intimidating you? Or are you turned on?"

"Neither, bastard." He grumbled, trying not to show that he was actually quite freaked out with their position. "Now... Let me go..."

Thinking about it, Ismael lowered his body some more, so he was more on top of Alfred. "No, I don't think I will. After all, last time I didn't get to finish, so you owe me an orgasm."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Alfred turned his head so he could watch the TV. "Get off me." He said quietly, hoping that the small tremor in his voice was only in his mind. After all, his heart was beating uncomfortably fast and he had become hyper aware to the body on top of his. "Get off me you faggot!"

Pushing their crotches together, Ismael was satisfied by the barely muffled moan coming out of Alfred. "I miss the feel of his body." He whispered, letting his head drop so he was looking at Alfred's chest and not his face. "It's been too long, without him."

"S-Stop talking about him." Alfred almost pleaded, his voice going lighter. "I... I can't handle it when you talk about him like this." Especially not when he was getting turned on by another guy on top of him. He was supposed to be one hundred percent straight! How could someone like Ismael make him start to get hard already?

"...I need to talk about him... No one else will listen..." When he had come out of the closet, all his friends had ditched him, and for two years after he had found companionship in guys who were willing to fuck him. Then he had met Matthew. So now, he had no one, except for this man who shared only two things with him. They both cared about Matthew, and they both hated each other.

Grimacing for a moment, Alfred stared into Ismael's eyes. "Are you going to fuck me or what? If no, kindly get the fuck off me and you can have your own pity party somewhere else. If yes, then shut up and kiss me bastard."

A seconds hesitation, then Ismael started ravishing his mouth. It was a much rougher kiss than he had ever given Matthew, who preferred the slow, sensual kisses. But this wasn't Matthew.

Not surprised by the reaction but still shocked that he was kissing a guy again, Alfred retaliated quickly by arching up against Ismael. He might not be gay, but he knew what felt good for himself, and it would probably be the same for others too. Gyrating his hardening cock against the other, the American didn't even think of the consequences of his actions.

Moaning slightly into the kiss, Ismael started getting Alfred's shirt off. When they parted to lift it over his head, he figured it would be a good time to ask. "Do you have hand lotion? Or any type of body oil? Or anything at all?"

"Fuck, I don't know. I have conditioner?" He said with a shrug. Really, he just wanted to get this done and over with so he wouldn't have to think about just how wrong it all was.

Grunting, the Cuban looked to the coffee table and saw a thing of hand lotion. "This will work." He kissed him again, working on Alfred's pants and pushing them down, feeling the wet material of his boxers. "Are you sure you're not gay?"

Alfred just snorted. "Of course I'm not gay." Arching into the touch, he grunted. "Take your shirt off now." Once again, he didn't want to be the only naked one. He never liked it when he was having sex with his girlfriends either.

Shaking his head, Ismael dragged his dread locks over the tanned chest. "Take it off for me." He held up his arms to make it easier.

"I already said I'm not gay so just take the fucking thing off." Alfred argued, not wanting to have a hand in his own destruction. He really just needed to not think about this, and have Ismael do whatever he wanted.

"Fine then it's staying on." He went back to taking off Alfred's underwear, quickly making sure he still had the makeshift lube with him.

Growling, Alfred caved in and reached up to the hem of Ismael's shirt. Pulling on it violently, he made sure to scratch his chest and sides with his nails as the garment was taken off and thrown to the side. "Are you going to make me take off your pants too, cock sucker?"

"Sure why not. Speaking of that though I'm not sucking you off again since you came on my face last time." He squeezed out some hand lotion, sticking his first finger in. It still felt just as tight as last time.

"You deserved it, queer." The blond winced as the finger explored around inside of him. "Lift your hips so I can get them off." Already he had the zipper down and could feel the heat radiating from the bulge. Just how big was Ismael anyways? It wasn't like he got a good look before.

Doing what he said, Ismael let his pants be taken off. He gave a laugh as he saw Alfred's cock twitched. "Did I hit your sweet spot again? Feels good, doesn't it?" He added a second finger, this time giving him a little more time to adjust.

Shutting his eyes, he answered. "Not as good as driving into a pussy but you wouldn't know that." Still, his mind couldn't stop his body as his legs spread wider for Ismael's fingers. "And I still don't like cocks."

"I've has sex with girls. I just didn't like it. And trust me, a guy's ass is way better than any girl's pussy." It was actually amazing he could have gotten hard. Curling his fingers, he started moving them more inside Alfred.

Wincing as he was stretched wider, Alfred scoffed. "You must of had some pretty nasty vaginas if you think an ass is better."

Biting the skin above Alfred's belly button, Ismael added his third finger. "Asses are tighter. Vaginas are like fucking a donut in comparison." The hand lotion made it very soft compared to last time, strangely.

The blond winced in pain as he was stretched again by three fingers. "Just get it over with then. I'm sure my ass is virgin enough for you still." Alfred didn't really know why he was trying to get fucked by Ismael, but he guessed that it was almost like his own dare: 'fuck me on the couch that you used to sit on with Matthew'. Of course it was petty and extremely unconventional, but he still needed to do something.  



	4. Chapter 4

Hey everyone! Sorry for ending the last chapter where it did. We had technical difficulties. Basically we lost a whole chunk of the story. So here is the ending of the sex scene, and then the next chapter. Enjoy! (schoolgirl-cheesesculpture says that if you get the reference to a certain video game, you get virtual cookies and a internet high-five)

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"Fine I guess you're ready then." Ismael took out his fingers, a trail connecting them for a second. Grabbing his own cock he stroked it a few times to get it coated as well before pushing in slowly. So that Alfred couldn't make a noise, he kissed him again, tongue darting out.

Immediately, Alfred's face contorted in pain as he was penetrated. With the position, it felt as though the cock inside him was going deeper inside than before which made his body want to get away from it. Even with that little spot inside him, there was no way this was better. "F-Fucking move!" He hissed around Ismael's mouth and tongue.

Shrugging, Ismael started thrusting. He had been planning to take it slow, because this time they were more civil than last time, but if Alfred didn't want that then it was fine with him. "At t-this point, Matthew would already be begging me for more." He didn't look at the man under him, instead fixating on his chest.

"Shut up! I'm not Matthew!" Alfred growled, digging his nails into the other's back as the pain only seemed to heighten with movement. "I'm sure as fuck not going to beg for your cock anyways."

"Of course you aren't Matthew. He is much cutter." And so much better in so many ways. God, he missed him so much. Not even the pleasure of being in this guy's ass could make him feel any better, or forget his lover.

Just as he was about to yell back at the man screwing him, the same jolt of pleasure he felt last time went through his body. Whatever it was, it stopped him from telling Ismael off and instead made an embarrassingly loud groan pass his lips. "Fuck!" Alfred hissed after, pulling at Ismael's dreads to distract himself from the leftover pleasure.

Grinning ruthfully, Ismael continued assaulting the same spot. "It looks like you are enjoying yourself." He put a hand on Alfred's stomach to help him keep balance. If not, they probably would have both fallen on the ground, since it was a fairly narrow couch.

Keeping his mouth shut to keep out any noises, Alfred leaned forward. Waiting until he was pulled out, he then bit down on the juncture of Ismael's neck and shoulder to keep himself from moaning out. There was no way he could get turned on just from having something up his ass!

"Ow fuck!" Ismael pulled away, feeling the bite mark on his neck. "Fucking bitch what are you a fucking vampire?" He reached down, grabbing Alfred's cock in a vice like grip, the head turning purple.

"Let my cock go!" He yelled back. Alfred's first instinct was to thrust into the hand, but he managed to stop himself. How in the world could this feel good? It made sense for girls, but they didn't take it up the ass every time!

Squeezing tighter, Ismael lowered his head and started biting one of Alfred's nipples. It pissed him off that he would probably have a bite mark on his neck for a few days now, so he wanted to make the blond man suffer for it.

Biting onto his own arm to keep himself quiet, Alfred pulled back to growl. "Fuck, I'm sorry for biting you! Just fucking let my cock go!" Immediately he bit down on his arm again since the thrusts inside him made his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure.

Satisfied, Isamael didn't let go but loosened his grip slightly and started slowly pumping his hand. This way, if Alfred was going to cum too soon, he could just squeeze it again and make him wait.

Leaning his head back, Alfred opened his eyes and tried to keep himself from moaning. "Wh-What the fuck do you keep hitting?" He gasped, trying to fool himself into thinking that he wasn't enjoying this enough to rock against Ismael.

Laughing, Ismael leaned down closer, resting on his elbow. "Your prostate. Best organ in the male body." He could feel himself getting close, and he was torn between helping Alfred cum, or just finishing himself and let the American deal with it himself. But he figured that if he did that, then he would complain that gay sex wasn't good enough to make him cum. So he sped up his hand.

"What about," Alfred stopped to shudder as he felt himself getting closer. "the cock?" Before he could stop himself Alfred's mouth opened in a silent scream as white invaded his vision. He could faintly feel the hand milking him and the continued thrusts, but they didn't mean anything to him in his post-orgasmic haze.

Thrusting the last few times, Ismael stopped thinking. Which is why, when he came, he screamed out "Matthew!" and collapsed onto the body underneath him.

It only took a few seconds of feeling Ismael's weight on top of him before Alfred registered what just happened. Before he could feel both of their hearts for another second, he pushed Ismael off him to the floor. "Get the fuck out of my house." He muttered dangerously.

Coming back to the present, Ismael stood up, quickly putting on his clothes, and started walking to the door. He paused, not even turning around, and muttered "I never want to see you again." and left.

Hearing the door close, Alfred yelled out in frustration. What the fuck had possessed him to do that? Not only that, why did he like it? And what made Ismael think he could cum inside him? All he knew was that the feeling was mutual; he never wanted to lay an eye on the Cuban bastard again.

.oOo.

Walking through the snow deadened silence of the park, Alfred buried his nose further into the scarf he was wearing. It just snowed for the first time this year and it was already so cold! Damn bipolar weather... Still, the cold helped Alfred keep his mind off what had happened a week ago.

Trudging through the snow, the American stopped quickly as he heard some suspicious sounds. Before he could only hear his own footfalls but now there were rushed ones as well as... Was that a woman?

Alfred turned around and tried to find the source of the sounds. Going back to the nearest fork in the path that he went through, he immediately saw what was going on. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing to her?" He yelled out at two men who looked like they were trying to take advantage of the stranger.

Looking up, the first man growled. "Stay out of this." The girl tried to run again, but the second man had her tightly by her wrist.

"Help! Help me!" She gripped her purse, not wanting these men to take it, but at the same time hoping that was all they were after.

"Get the fuck away from her!" Alfred yelled, not quite sure why he was bothering. Maybe it was because he felt as if he needed to reaffirm his masculinity. More likely it was because he knew he needed to help this woman for whatever reason, be it his hero-complex or not. Stepping forward, he smirked as their eyes widened at his brashness.

Letting the girl go, the two men faced their new opponent. The girl ran away immediately, but there would always be more. "You should have stayed out of this." They started walking towards this guy, wanting to bash his brains in.

"You should learn to not pick on innocent girls. See, you made her run away, chucklenuts." Alfred grinned more, wondering just what was wrong with him to want to fight these guys. Oh well, it was probably just his testosterone needing to show after taking it up the ass with his brother's ex.

Jumping forward, no one was really sure who threw the first punch. As soon as the guys saw that the blond was actually fairly strong, the second quickly ran away, leaving his buddy to fight for himself. "Dammit, fucking asshole!" He yelled, realizing he had been abandoned.

Wiping off some blood that was dripping into his eye, Alfred smiled demoniacally. "That's what you get for being a couple of asses. You better be happy that I'm not gay or I'd rape your fat ass into hell."

Growling, the man reached into his jacket. Now that he was alone, he only had one chance of winning, and he knew that. The knife he pulled out gleamed in the moonlight, as he turned it in his hand. "Say that again. I dare you."

"I said you're lucky I'm not gay cause there'd be no way you could walk properly for a week if I was you fucker."

Thrusting forward, the guy felt his knife hit something, but could tell it was nowhere near what he was aiming for. But he still heard a satisfying groan of pain.

Immediately lashing out, Alfred kicked the man in the balls before hitting the knife away. "You should stop bothering randoms, dipshit." With that, he pushed the man into the wall, making sure he hit his head hard against it. "Fucking rapist."

Alfred could feel himself getting weak from the stab to his shoulder. The cold helped it somewhat, but he knew he needed to rest. Sadly, he could already tell that he was too far from his own house, and that a certain someone was closer. Not that he wanted to see him, but he knew that the bastard would feel obliged to take care of him like this.

So with his shoulder and forehead bleeding and with a slight limp, Alfred set off to Ismael's house, silently glad that he knew where he lived now and hoping that somehow their meeting wouldn't end with him having more injuries.

Hearing a knock at the door, Ismael put out his cigarette. Who the hell would be visiting him at this time of night? Ever since Matthew died, the only person to come see him had been... "Fuck, what the hell happened to you?" He noticed Alfred's bruised face, and then also saw that his shoulder was bleeding. "You look worse than usual."

"Thanks, Captain Obvious." Alfred grumbled, wiping away some more blood with his good hand. "I need to rest somewhere and here was closest." For some reason he didn't want to up and say that he had gotten into a pointless fight, maybe because he knew that Ismael wouldn't think it was 'heroic' like he did at the time.

Closing his eyes for a second, Ismael then let Alfred inside. "Don't drip blood on my floor." He was only doing this for Matthew, he didn't actually care about this guy. Going into the kitchen, he grabbed his first aid kit. "Take off your shirt."

Not even bothering to retort about his request, Alfred ground his teeth as it pulled at the wound on his shoulder. It wasn't too deep luckily, but it was the shallow ones that hurt the most. "Just get it over with so I can go home." He grumbled as Ismael came back with some gauze and other various things to clean and dress his wounds. "And trust me when I say that I really don't want to be here."

"Funny, I don't want you to be here either." He looked at the cut, which was still oozing blood. Ismael had a little bit of satisfaction when Alfred winced when he started cleaning it. "So, what happened? Run into a car?"

Snorting, Alfred shook his head. "No, I got into a fight and the guy brought out a knife before I smashed his head into a wall." Looking around the kitchen, he commented. "What did you do with the pictures?"

Throwing out a bloody tissue, Ismael started putting gauze on the wound. "Two are in my bedroom. The other I have in my pocket." He hadn't been without it since he got it, the exceptions being when he slept and when he took a shower. "So why did you get into a fight?"

"Some girl was getting mugged and I stepped in. Figured it was the least I could do since they looked like who I imagined killed Matt." The American shrugged, hissing when his forehead was cleaned. "So why are they in your room? Do you jack off to them or something?" Not that he really wanted to know, but it was the first thing Alfred thought of so of course he said it.

Glaring, Ismael pushed on the cut on Alfred's shoulder. "I wouldn't dirty his memory. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm a pig." He just looked at them every night before he went to sleep. And most mornings when he woke up.

Alfred grimaced at the pain. "Shit man, that was uncalled for! Fuck!" He swore again, covering it up with his hand. "Then who do you jack off to if it isn't my bro?" Even though he still didn't want to know, Alfred was somewhat curious just who gay guys thought was attractive.

Annoyed with where this conversation was going, Ismael looked at him disdainfully. "Brad Pitt."

"Really? Didn't pick you out to be a fan." Alfred shrugged which made him wince again. "So... What made you go out with my brother in the first place? It wasn't like he was gay before you." He commented off-handedly, looking away from Ismael. Maybe it was because he fought the man who made him think of his brother, but he wanted to know more about their relationship.

"Thought you didn't want me talking about him." He finished up cleaning his wounds, so he went to the fridge and grabbed an ice pack. "Put this on your face. Wouldn't want the girls seeing you like that, now would you?"

"I dunno." The blond said, holding the ice pack to his cheek. Totally ignoring the statement, he continued. "I guess I want to know why my brother turned gay for you. He never really told me why, just that 'you were special' and all that shit."

Sitting on the couch, Ismael leaned back. "Someone doesn't just 'turn gay'. Did he tell you where we met?" He waited for Alfred to shake his head, before continuing. "We met at a gay club. And remember, that was long after he started loving you."

His eyebrow raising, Alfred just scoffed. "My poor little innocent bro going to a gay club? I doubt that, even though I'm not surprised that you would go somewhere like that. He told me you were quite the whore before. Just another reason why I fucking hate your guts." Once again, he completely ignored the last part of what Ismael said, still not wanting to believe it at all, but also not wanting to put more attention on it.

"So you're saying that you have never had a one night stand or gone to a strip bar? Face it, we're not that different." Then Ismael smirked, looking at him. "You've even had a dick up your ass." God, why was this guy still here, anyway? He was patched up, so he should just leave.

"Yeah but that doesn't mean anything." He spat before looking over to the Cuban. "How did you two fuck?" Seeing that Ismael just stared at him, he asked again. "Y'know, how did you fuck Matthew?" Why was he asking this all of a sudden? It didn't make sense, but maybe it was because he was already fucked up from everything happening today that he was somewhat curious if his bro really did love him.

Sneering slightly, Ismael looked out the window. "I didn't 'fuck' him. I made love to him. There is a difference, not that you would know." He looked back at Alfred, making sure he saw the coldness in his eyes. This guy just didn't get it.

Nudging Ismael's knee with his foot, Alfred took the ice pack off his face. "I've made love to girls before, it just never ended well." Waiting until the brunette looked at him, he stated with a straight face. "Show me how you 'made love' to my brother then."

Staying silent for a moment, Ismael waited for Alfred to start laughing at the joke he just made. But when he just looked on with a serious face, he had to say something. "You're... kidding, right?" Alfred still didn't make a response. "Look, having sex with you was wrong. You just look so much like him... if we did it how me and Matthew did it... I might start to, I don't know, lose focus or something."

"I don't care. I want to see what made my brother stay with you, because it obviously wasn't your natural charm." So what if it was also a grab at something that would make him feel as if Matthew was still around. This way he could see if Ismael really did take good care of his brother even if he supposedly 'loved' Alfred instead of his boyfriend. "So I guess we'll just go to hell together." With that, Alfred went over to Ismael and grabbed his face, pulling their lips together in a strong kiss.

Surprised by what just happened, it took Ismael an extra second to react to the passionate kiss. But then he pulled away, shaking his head. "No. That's just wrong. We would kiss more like this." Then he went forward again, this time much slower, just feeling each other. Damn, this was already bringing back too many memories.

Alfred was just as surprised as Ismael when suddenly their kiss turned tender and sweet. Did the bastard really treat his brother with such compassion? Still, he let himself go into the kiss, wondering just if this would actually make him gay. A quick hatefuck was nothing but actually 'making love' with your brother's ex whom you hate? "And Matt liked this?" He asked as they pulled away, his voice low.

"What, you think he would rather the way we did it before? Hell no, I would never do that with him." Wouldn't anyone kiss the person they loved like this? Ismael stood up, pulling Alfred along with him. "If you want it how we used to do it, you have to play the part as well."

Switching his hands so Ismael was pulling him by the one that wasn't stabbed, he nodded. "Sure, but I'm not going to be moaning your name if that's what you want. I just want to see if you were good enough for my brother." It made sense that his brother didn't want to be fucked into the mattress, but already hearing that he went to a gay club and loved him made Alfred not want to assume anything about Matt.

Opening the door to his bedroom, Ismael quickly went to the side table, taking Matthew's pictures and placing them face down. He wouldn't need to see what was about to happen. "I already told you, Matthew usually moaned your name."

"You can talk about my brother as long as it's not about that." It was already disturbing enough that he was going to do the dirty with Ismael in a gay way, but he didn't need to think about Matthew getting hot over him. "Now what do you want me to do?"

"Just... don't be yourself." Because there was no way in hell he would have loving sex with a guy he hated. But, he had asked for this, so they both sat on the bed, awkwardly waiting for someone to start. But then Ismael remembered that he would normally be the one to start, so he leaned over, kissing him again.

Continuing the slow kiss from before, Alfred felt something inside him twist awkwardly. Was it the fact that he didn't find kissing a guy horrible? Well, except for the fact that it was Ismael of course. He would still rather punch in the guy's face then do this, but it was the only way to learn. "So what would Matt be doing now?"

"Blushing." Ismael answered immediately. "But I can understand if a straight boy like you couldn't do that." But his words didn't have the harsh undertones that they normally did when talking to Alfred. After all, they were pretending this was Matthew, instead.

Pulling the Cuban into another sweet kiss, Alfred murmured. "You're right, straight guys don't blush."

Hands starting to lightly ghost over Alfred's naked torso, Ismael started sucking on his neck. "I just meant that you weren't good enough to blush." He had to keep saying these things, if for no other reason than to make himself remember that this wasn't Matthew.

Alfred shivered, immediately steeling himself afterward so that he wouldn't do it again under the onslaught of Ismael's fingers. "How is it a good thing for a guy to blush? Matt used to get picked on for being so girly."

"Because all the other guys are afraid of the fact that they find him cute." Quickly, Ismael took the ponytail out of his hair, letting the dreads fall around his face. Matthew always liked it like that better. "Found him cute." He corrected himself with a sobering voice.

Smirking, Alfred reached forward and pulled Ismael closer to him by his hair. "Not all guys are secretly gay I hope you know. Just cause you want them to be doesn't mean they are."

Grabbing Alfred's crotch, Ismael let the game stop for a moment. "You are telling me that you're completely straight, when you are this hard already?" But then his hand softened and started caressing the still clothed leg.

"Any guy gets hard when his cock is touched, dumbass." Alfred muttered as they pulled together for another, almost sickeningly sweet kiss. If this wasn't Ismael and he wasn't pretending as if he was Matthew, then the American would have imagined himself being a with some hot girl. With dreads.

Rolling his eyes, Ismael tried to continue acting as if he was doing this with Matthew, no matter how much it hurt to do so. "Matt would probably take my shirt off now."

"And here I thought he'd still be blushing." Alfred scoffed as he reached forward and pulled off the Cuban's shirt with no fanfare at all. "Now what? Were you one of those 'tons of foreplay' couples or did you get right down and dirty?" Despite how harsh his words were, Alfred really did want to know in a somewhat creepy way.

Trying to compose himself so he wouldn't start yelling, Ismael leaned back down again. "There needed to be foreplay, so Matthew wouldn't hurt at all. With you, I didn't really care if you hurt, so I was really quick with it."

Crawling around on the bed, Alfred stopped himself from smirking or scowling as he went on top of Ismael. "And what if he was needy, hm? Would he instigate it?"

Shaking his head, the Cuban quickly undid Alfred's pants. "The only time he started it was the first time. Right after you two had the big fight when he told you he was gay." And since it had been Matthew's first time, he had taken even longer to stretch him.

Grimacing, Alfred determinedly ignored the part about the fight and looked down at Ismael. "He was pretty much a girl then." With that, he leaned down and kissed Ismael again, not paying attention to how he rolled his hips forcefully into the Cuban's.

Letting his hand slip into Alfred's pants, he started fondling his cock. "No, he wasn't. He was stronger than you will ever know." Not physically, but emotionally. After all, Matthew had had to deal with the knowledge that the one he loved would never reciprocate his feelings for his whole life.

Alfred's eyes squeezed shut as he was fondled. "Whatever ok, I thought I told you to shut up about that. I don't want to think about it." Of course he was talking about his brother's 'fascination' with him, but Ismael probably wouldn't have understood.

"You would rather think about having sex with your dead brother's boyfriend?" The Cuban flipped them over quickly, so that he was now on top of Alfred, so he could move down and kiss a line from his navel downward. Matthew had always liked when he did this.

With a squirm, the American grumbled. "I'd rather not think right about now." Why else would he be having sex with Ismael for the third -well, second- time? All he wanted was mind blowing pleasure and not only that, but something else other than their hatefucking.

Kisses reaching the line of course hair, Ismael licked a long line up Alfred's cock, flicking his tongue into the slit at the end. "Fine. I'll fuck you so good that you won't be able to think."

"Good." He whispered, arching his back as his cock was licked once more. Alfred really shouldn't have been so turned on by the prospect, but he kept pinning it on the fact that he had been single for a while now. At least, a while in his mind.

His movements still soft and controlled, Ismael let his hands wander up Alfred's torso. He wouldn't let the American cum on his face this time, but he always liked giving Matthew a bit of a blow job before starting. And maybe some more when he stretched him.

Feeling the warm mouth surround his cock head for the second time, Alfred let out a sigh of breath before looking down. With his hair free to roam, Ismael's dreads tesingly brushed the inside of his thighs, making it hard not to buck into the mouth. Still, the blond didn't dare to say anything as he reached down and touched them, massaging the hairs.

Taking his mouth off the cock almost instantly, Ismael looked away. "Don't... Matt used to do that..." This wasn't Matthew. This was Alfred, who he hated. He knew this was true, but his heart wasn't listening, and it kept beating against his rib cage.

There was a second as Alfred hesitated, wanting to do it just to piss off Ismael but something stopped him. Instead, he pushed himself up on his elbows and brought the Cuban closer to his mouth before whispering. "Just go with it."

Something must have been seriously fucked with him, but he wanted to be treated like he was Matthew. Maybe it was because he always had Ismael with him, keeping him happy, but deep down where even Alfred wouldn't acknowledge, it was because he wanted to be this close to his brother.

Closing his eyes, Ismael refused to look at him. Damn, why did they have to be twins, for god's sake? "Easy for you to say. It's not painful for you." He was beginning to wonder if he would ever get over his first real boyfriend and lover, but he probably wouldn't. Maybe he would learn how to live on, but there would always be a part that was attached to Matthew.

"You don't think this is painful? Ismael, you keep saying how my brother wanted this from me. How could that not be painful to know that's how he felt all this time, yet I pushed him to the side?" Not wanting to talk anymore, he kissed the other's jaw, feeling the stubble under his lips. "Just... Let yourself go. That's what I'm doing."

Finally opening his eyes, Ismael moved so they were actually kissing now. He was right, just let go. Matthew wasn't here anymore, so it didn't matter what he did. No matter how much it felt like he was dying inside, it didn't matter. The one person that had accepted him was never coming back.

Feeling that the other was kissing back, Alfred pushed his mouth forward forcefully before backing off completely. There had to have been a small part of him that was gay, but he still wouldn't admit to enjoying the attention his chest was getting from Ismael as he made his way down south.

When Alfred laid down again, Ismael went back to what he had been doing, lightly twisting his soft nipples. "At-" He cleared his throat, "At this point, I would probably tell him how cute he was, how perfect he was. I'm not going to say that to you."

Squirming on the bed, he nodded. "Good. Don't." Because as much as he wanted to be treated as if he was Matthew just for now, he wouldn't want to see just how Ismael would react to that. There was no way he could deal with a crying man.

Normally, the Cuban would have spent at least ten more minutes making him feel good, but he just couldn't take it anymore. So Ismael grabbed a bottle of lube that he remembered buying in the middle of the night with Matthew, and coated his fingers.

Knowing by now what came next, Alfred shut his eyes before wincing as the still cool finger probed his entrance before slipping in. It was sad how much he knew from two other times doing the same thing, yet it seemed so much more raw this time.

"Just tell me when you're ready for another finger." It would be easier than guessing when he was ready. Lightly kissing Alfred's neck, Ismael was careful to not leave a hickey but still wanted to make him feel good. Well, that is what he would have wanted, had this been Matthew.

Nodding, he murmured an agreement. If they were going to go by his standards for being stretched enough, then they would be here for a long time. Well, not really he supposed as the one finger soon felt much too at home in his ass. "I'm ready."

Adding another finger, Ismael thrust them in and out, but only a little. Curling his fingers, he tried to hit his prostate. "Make sure not to cum." Well, with Matthew he would try to make him cum as much as possible, but he just didn't feel like that with Alfred.

With a grumble he hissed. "I'll try not..." Already he was reverting to his normal 'hate Ismael and why the fuck am I doing this anyways' mode, but Alfred let himself be fingered and stretched. Well, at least this way he kinda knew what it was like for girls. "Did Matt ever fuck you?"

Shaking his head, Ismael bent over Alfred so they were touching with their whole bodies. "I offered, he always said no."

Grabbing instinctively onto Ismael's dreads, Alfred mumbled. "Then I'm fucking you next, I don't care what you say." Pressing up against the body above him, he then gyrated his hips forcefully into the Cuban's.

Biting down on his neck, Ismael made sure to leave a mark. "What, you think there will be a next time?" Then he licked where he had bitten, as he started spreading his fingers. "Sorry, I would never have done that to Matthew."

"You better not have," Alfred grumbled, moving around under Ismael. "If you did, I would have to kick your ass as well as fuck it." With the fingers twisting and thrusting inside him, the blond was about to complain before groaning deeply as his 'magic spot' was struck.

Grinning, Ismael tried his best to look like he wasn't once again wishing this was Matthew. "Your prostate is as easy to find as your brother's was." He added his last finger, figuring that he was probably ready for it since it had been a while.

Hissing at the new pressure, the American narrowed his eyes. "Is that some sort of compliment gays give each other?" Though he couldn't help but be intrigued by that fact. Something he never thought he would know or even wanted to beforehand.

Leaning his forehead on Alfred's shoulder, Ismael let his dread locks cover his face. "Shut up about it, you fucking gay hater. I've had enough of that in my life. And so had Matthew." He had told him some of the horror stories from high school. He got picked on a lot because he was so shy, and everyone said he must be a fag because he had never had a girlfriend.

"Then you just shut up and fuck me, okay?" He grumbled, not wanting to get into another argument when they were like this. Not when they were supposed to 'make love'. Even if Alfred wasn't gay and Isamael and he had a grudge against the other from the first moment they saw each other. "Or make love, whatever."

"I told you, we can't make love because we don't love each other. How's your ass feeling?" He wished he could just pound into it like last time, but they had to do this as if they were lovers. Alfred's stupid selfish request.

Just breathing for a moment, he said with a touch of sarcasm. "Like I have fingers up my ass, what do you think? Then fine, just make sure I can actually walk tomorrow without someone thinking I got banged by a guy or a strap-on."

Taking his fingers out, the Cuban undid his pants and took out his cock, giving it a few strokes to bring it to full erection. Then he quickly put some lube on it, so it would make things easier. He always did that with Matthew, after all.

Wincing at the feeling of being empty and at the sight of Ismael slicking himself up, he muttered. "I hope you didn't cum in Matt... That's fucking disgusting."

"Of course I did. After the first few months, he asked to do it without a condom, and I helped him clean it out after anyway." Matthew had always said that it was fine, since he wasn't a woman and therefore couldn't get pregnant.

"You're fucking nasty. Do everything else except that. Last time was enough of a pain to clean it out. Not to mention just what that shit is." Alfred complained as the cock lined up with his hole. Was it going to hurt any less this time?

Pushing in, Ismael stopped when just the tip was inside. He started kissing Alfred, and they both pretended like it was real.

Responding furiously to the kiss, Alfred grunted in pain as the cock slid further into his stretched hole. Even with how long it took to get him prepared, it still hurt like hell to have something up his ass. "Did it always hurt this much for him?" He hissed, his eyes squeezed shut.

Not wanting to answer, Ismael just stopped pushing in. This was supposed to be like with Matthew, and he would never have let him hurt this much. "Sorry." He muttered, not really sorry but wanting to keep pretending. It kept the pain away for a little while, pretending, but that made it hurt that much more when he came back to reality.

Slowly the pressure relaxed into just a full feeling as Ismael thrust slowly into him. Alfred was somewhat amazed that he was being so gentle with him, so he just stayed silent as his pace sped up. It wasn't until little grunts and moans were passing his lips that he asked. "So were you really this gentle with him?"

Closing his eyes, the Cuban nodded. Damn, the illusion had been broken again. "Of course I was. I loved him. I... still do." He held back a sob as he said the last part, because the wound was just too new, too deep. Would he ever be over this?

"O-Ok..." He stuttered, overwhelmed by the emotion that was all but choking the two of them. Normally he was quite oblivious to feelings, but the look on Ismael's face as he thrust into him was one of pure emotional pain. "I... I'm glad."

It had gotten easier to thrust, so Ismael figured that he was loose enough to do it properly. He knew that if he said anything, his voice would crack and he would probably break down, so instead he just put his head on Alfred's chest, hiding behind his dread locks.

Feeling incredibly awkward with how emotional the atmosphere was, Alfred just shut his eyes and lost himself in the quickening motions. Without meaning to, his hands moved up and held Ismael's head lightly, rubbing his fingertips into the scalp. "I'm sorry."

Taking a shaky breath, the Cuban clenched his hand into a fist. "Don't say it, because you don't mean it. You can't mean it, because you hate me and I hate you." That's how it had to be, because they both hated each other. If that changed, then he wasn't sure what was left in his life.

Gasping as his prostate was brushed, he answered with a shaky voice. "I'm not sorry for you, I'm sorry for Matthew. I didn't expect you to understand."

Trying to ignore what was happening, Ismael let his hand go down Alfred's body, grabbing his cock in a loose grip. He just couldn't deal with this anymore, so he stopped thinking about it. As long as he wasn't alone, he would be alright.

Alfred moaned quietly, glad that his cock was finally being touched and that it made it harder to think about how wrong it was for them to be doing this. Really, he originally wanted to see how Matthew and Ismael made love, but now it had turned into something much more personal than that to him.

Thrusting forward harder, Ismael tried hitting his prostate again. "Damn... I'm cumming..." He tightened his hand, and as he did he felt Alfred's hole contract around his cock.

Moaning as his sweet spot was hit hard and he felt cum shoot inside him, Alfred felt himself release over Ismael's hand and his own stomach. "Fuck..." He whispered, shutting his eyes and resting his head on the pillow.

Panting off his high, Ismael collapsed on him and wrapped his arms around the sweaty body. God damn, he couldn't do this. He just couldn't... but he was. His face was in Alfred's shoulder, so he saw the line of red on the gauze he had put on earlier. "You're bleeding again."

Looking over to it, he just shrugged his not-bleeding shoulder. "Doesn't matter. Don't bother taking care of it." In all honesty, he just wanted to lie there and feel like there was someone that actually cared about him enough to stay with him, even if he was supposed to hate Ismael.

"Fine. I would always hold him after we made love, so just deal with it." He moved to the side so he wasn't on top of Alfred, but he was still holding him close. The truth was he just wanted to fall asleep holding someone, and pretend like it was Matthew.

"Whatever." He couldn't very much say that he wanted Ismael to hold him so he could almost feel like he was loved by someone who didn't leave him after a few times of having meaningless sex. Even if it did make him 'gay'.


	5. Chapter 5

The image of Matthew's smile was still in his mind as Ismael woke from the dream he just had. His cheeks were damp with tears and could feel Alfred clinging to him in his sleep. Moving gently so he wouldn't wake, the Cuban got out of bed and started to get dressed, not even thinking about what he was doing.

It wasn't until Alfred faintly heard the door close that he opened his eyes and saw that Ismael wasn't there anymore. The bed was still warm, so he knew that he definitely just heard the other man leave his house. Still, it hurt him somewhere deep inside that the Cuban had just left him without saying anything or waking him up, even though he had an idea of where he went. Not that he would ever admit that.

Getting out of the bed, he slipped on his clothes after washing off the dried cum on his stomach with a grimace. Grabbing the first thing in the fridge that looked edible, he left the house and went to where Matthew was buried. Sure enough, he could see Ismael there, crouching near the tombstone with tears trailing paths down his dark skin.

Because it was winter, Ismael couldn't find a maple leaf. He had moved some of the snow at the bottom of the tomb stone so he could put Matthew's picture there. He glanced up when he heard snow crunching, but looked back down as he saw that it was Alfred.

Watching him for a few seconds, Alfred went over beside Ismael and crouched next to him. "I heard you leave. Here's a scarf." He stated, holding out the article. "I noticed you didn't wear one and I knew you'd be out here for a while."

Sighing, Ismael took the scarf but just held it in his hands, not putting it on. "Why is it always you?" It was a rhetorical question, obviously, because neither of them could answer it. It was always Alfred, coming when he least wanted him and when he most needed him. It was like some god up there enjoyed putting two people together that would hate each other for ever, but who needed each other, needed to cling to that hate because that was the only thing they had left. But... maybe they could eventually learn to... put up with each other.

With a shrug, Alfred looked down to the small clearing and the picture. "Is this why you wanted one?" He asked, ignoring the other question. Before Ismael could answer, he brushed the rest of the snow off the tombstone and went back to crouching in front of it.

"Not necessarily. I look at it a lot, not just when I'm here." He must look at it a hundred times a day, not to mention the other two pictures that were in his house. He kept looking at it, a little disappointed that his alone time was disturbed.

Nodding, Alfred continued to stare at the grave before looking back to Ismael. "Here, I'll put it on you if you aren't going to." He murmured, holding his hand out for the scarf. Who cared now if it seemed to be an action from a lover if they could never truly like or hate each other properly?

Dropping the piece of fabric, Ismael felt it being draped around his neck. He was cold, of course, but he just didn't feel it besides the numbness creeping into his body. Matthew had always liked the snow. Last year they had made a snow man together in the park, and then they both destroyed it together.

Once he was done, Alfred could tell that the other man was quite cold, but didn't want to show it. "Are you ready to go back home or do you want me to leave?" The American asked, looking into Ismael's clouded eyes.

He was about to respond when a gust of wind came up, taking the picture with it. Launching after it, Ismael ran to catch it. He couldn't just let it go! Jumping, he caught it before falling on the ground. Letting out a sigh of relief, he curled slightly, protecting the picture with his body.

Getting up to hover over his 'friend', Alfred offered a hand to help him up. "You could have just taken another photo you know." He said casually, brushing the snow off Ismael with a small, cold-induced blush.

Shaking his head, Ismael slipped the picture safely back into his pocket. "No, they wouldn't be the same." He said quietly, looking away. Then he walked back to the grave, and without turning around he muttered, "You should leave now."

Looking back to the grave one more time, he nodded and walked away in silence. There was no need for him to stay around Ismael, not after the painful moment they shared last night. Not only did it hurt to pretend to be with Matthew, but it hurt Alfred to know that someone whom had loved his brother so much was now in pain, pining after what he could never have. Just as Matt pined after him...


	6. Chapter 6

Opening the door, Ismael let Alfred in for what seemed the hundredth time. "What is it now?" He kept his cool for now, but he usually ended up breaking down sooner or later when the blond visited.

"They found the killer." Alfred said quietly, not wanting to beat around any bushes. "They phoned me about twenty minutes ago and I knew that I had to tell you."

Staying silent for a moment, Ismael then went to the couch to sit down. "They did?" Hopefully he would rot in jail for his life for what he did. Putting his head in his hands, Ismael had a feeling almost like happiness, but he hadn't felt true happiness since that day. "How?"

Going to sit in the chair across from him, he put his feet up as he ran a hand through his blond hair. "Something about another place being robbed, they caught them and the ballistics were the same from both scenes. Their trial isn't set, but they are in jail until they go to court." Still, he couldn't help but feel it wasn't good enough for the people who killed his brother to just be in jail. His brother wasn't looking for trouble, he was just there out of the kindness of his heart.

Closing his eyes, the Cuban let a small smile to grace his lips. "At least they can't hurt anyone else." He knew that Matthew wouldn't have wanted it this way, that he wouldn't want someone to go to jail because of him, but they deserved to die there.

Alfred nodded. "Exactly, but it would have been better if the fuckers didn't have the chance to hurt anyone ever." Though he couldn't help but feel that life would have continued as normal and Alfred would have never known just how much pain his brother was in with his immoral feelings. "If it wasn't illegal I would gladly castrate the bastards then kill them with a gun and see how they like it."

Looking up, Ismael wasn't sure what he was thinking. It was strange, both of them agreeing on something and not fighting about it. "You said you were with him when he died, right? What... was it like?"

Visibly wincing, Alfred squeezed his eyes shut before looking into the Cuban's chocolate brown ones. "It was... Surreal." He murmured, using the first word that came to mind. "I really couldn't believe I was going to lose him... Just like that."

Grunting, Ismael leaned back on the couch. "Imagine what it was like to phone him, and have a nurse pick up and tell me he was dead." He had been wondering where he was, since Matthew had said about when he would be over.

"Do you want to know what else?" He whispered, unable to look away from Ismael. "You know what his last request was?" Before he could ask, the American continued. "He wanted me to say sorry for not coming back. He wanted _you_ to know that he was on his death bed. Nothing about our parents, he wanted _you_ to know. But you know what else? I was too much of a fucktard to want to talk to you so I didn't say anything."

Holding his breath, Ismael looked at the blond sitting across from him. "He, what? You didn't..." Damn, he couldn't even be angry at him, because Alfred actually looked like he felt guilty for not telling him. "He really did?"

With a self deprecating smirk, he asked. "Do you really think I'd make that up? I felt terrible for a few days before the funeral since I never said anything, but then I heard from our -my- parents that the doctor phoned the last few callers on his cell to pass the news around and I mostly let it go." With a shrug, he added. "I still feel like a douche for not saying anything, but I couldn't after he seemed so concerned about you knowing that."

Nodding his head slightly, Ismael sighed. "Yeah, I had gotten a call from the hospital, but by that time I was... ah, well let's just say I wasn't up to talking to anyone." Truth be told, he had been so drunk he probably couldn't get out of his bed if he had tried, which he didn't.

"But yeah. They're behind bars now." He said with a slightly happier tone, wanting to get away from such a painful topic for them. Matthew's death still wasn't easy to talk about, even though it was almost two months since it happened.

"That's good." They would probably end up going to the trial together, since they had pretty much grown used to each other's presence, however unwillingly. Neither of them would admit it, but they needed each other.

Alfred leaned back. "That's what I thought. Now we know that it won't happen to another family, even if it should never have happened." He murmured, looking up at the ceiling. Something was telling him to stay here, but he wasn't sure just what it was or even why.

They were silent for a moment, before Ismael got up. "I'm having tacos for dinner. I probably made too much, so..." He left his sentence hanging, having too much pride to actually finish it, even if it was painfully obvious what he was asking.

"Sure, I'll stay. I don't have anywhere to be, and I don't really want to go back home..." For obvious reasons, he had been avoiding his house and in turn Matthew's room ever since he died. It brought up way too many memories to be comfortable.

They went to the kitchen and started making their tacos, not really talking through it. But, it was better than being alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Alfred paused for a second before determinedly pressing the buttons on his cell and putting the phone to his ear. It was about time he did this, so he might as well get another person help him through the emotional onslaught. "Answer your damn phone..." He grumbled as it continued to ring.

Picking up, Ismael didn't even bother looking at who was calling. No one else would bother phoning him on a Saturday, since he didn't work on the weekends, and he had pushed all his other contacts out of the way long ago. "What do you want?"

"Well aren't you a brilliant ray of sunshine." Alfred mocked, pacing in front of Matthew's room. "I need you to get here as soon as you can. It's not an emergency per say, you just need to be here."

Sighing, Ismael looked around the room. Well, it wasn't like he hadn't had anything better to do. "Fine. I'll head over there now." He hung up and went to get his keys. It was too cold to walk.

When he heard the doorbell, Alfred opened it with a straight face. "I can't do this alone so I got you to come here." Urging the confused Cuban to Matthew's bedroom door, he pointed. "I want to clean it out; get a fresh start and all. I figured you'd want to help since I figured you're entitled to just as much as I am from here."

Looking around, Ismael let out a very small smile. "I thought you never wanted to go in here." He remembered so long ago when he had been forbidden to go into the beige coloured room. It looked exactly like he remembered it, right down to the perfectly made bed with the white stuffed bear on top.

"Yeah well, I changed my mind." And it was about time too, since he couldn't even go near it without feeling depressed, thus why he spent so much time at Ismael's; at least, that's what he told himself. Grabbing a box from beside the door, he handed it to Ismael. "Whatever you want to keep, just put it in the box."

Nodding, Ismael went to open up the dresser, figuring that would be a place to start. "What are you going to do with everything? Sell it?" It would be sad to see everything go, but it needed to be done. This would be good for both of them, and would be what Matthew would want.

"I'm not really sure right now. All I know is that I want to get it out of here and maybe keep a few things just to remember him." Alfred explained, immediately going to the bed to pick Kumajirou up. It still smelt like his brother which made him tense up, but it was still comforting.

Nodding, Ismael looked through Matthew's things, putting them in the boxes that were piled up around the room. He grabbed a hockey stick that had been shoved into the corner, and smiled. Matthew had always told him stories of when he used to play hockey in high school.

Not really watching the Cuban, Alfred continued to grab a few things -a signed poster of the Montreal Canadians and a sweater that he used to wear all the time to name some- before putting them in his own box. "If that's it then we can put the rest in boxes to go into storage or something."

Taking down a large Canadian flag that hung on the wall, Ismael folded it up nicely before putting it in his own box. He then looked in one of the drawers to start there, and was surprised to find a small cheap ring. He picked it up, smiling. "I got him this on our first date, because we stopped at a dollar store and it was his birth stone. I can't believe he kept it!" He added that to the growing pile in his box, on top of the flag.

"Well he was a bit of a sentimental fool." Alfred nodded sagely before looking around for anything else that would help him keep Matthew in his heart without making him break down every day. All he could think of was his obsession with maple syrup and pancakes, but it wasn't really anything he could keep. "But yeah, I have some more boxes in my room for stuff we could sell or give away.."

"Alright. Get them, because these boxes are already full." Just being in this room again was bringing back memories. Matthew never wanted to do anything when Alfred was home, obviously, but he had been fine if they were alone. In fact, while Alfred was out of the room, there were probably a few things under the bed that he should hide.

Looking over to Ismael as he went out of the room, he asked, "Do you want to keep more stuff?" Because he couldn't care less about anything except for the couple objects that mostly reminded him of his brother and his likes. Hockey, pancakes, his bear and a couple other knickknacks from different memories the two shared.

Sighing, Ismael had one more look over the room. "I don't think so." Well really he would like to keep it all, but he knew that they were doing this so they could let it go. Matthew would still always be a part of their minds, but they had to move on.

"'Kay, sounds good." With that, he brought in the boxes. "Maybe we should separate it into things we could sell and give away. Cause I don't think a lot of this is worth much other than to Matt." Because really, he had some weird stuff. A piece of an asteroid that hit down near the town in Alberta that he was born and a button from their father's doctor uniform in the war being a few examples.

They started going through everything, putting them in separate boxes. It was kind of strange. Matthew seemed like the type of person who would have everything organized. When you first looked at his room, that is what it looked like, but once you looked in the drawers or under the bed, you saw that he just hid the mess.

Once they were almost done, Alfred sat down on the corner of Matt's bed and sighed. "You know, I thought this would be more painful, but it actually feels good. Kinda like cleaning out the attic, but with way more things you think might hurt you but instead make you smile."

Understanding, Ismael put away the last of the clothes. "It would have hurt a month ago." Hell, it probably would have hurt last week. Maybe they actually were moving on with their lives, after being stuck in the past for so long.

Alfred just nodded, looking around the now bare room save for the boxes. "Thanks." He murmured, refusing to look at Ismael. "I really couldn't have done this without you. Not only would it have been painful, but I don't think that it would have been nice to just get rid of all his stuff without letting you go through it."

"Yeah, thanks for calling me." Ismael said quietly, looking at the ground and in turn, the boxes. "Do you... want me to help take these out?" He had nothing to do all day, since he wasn't working, so it didn't matter really.

Standing up, he replied. "Sure, it'd help." He had nowhere but the living room to keep them, so they might as well get rid of it now. "Not to sound girly or weak or anything, but I actually don't want to rip off your head right now. Strange, huh?"

Laughing weakly, Ismael picked up a box. "Matthew always did want us to get along." He doubted very much that they could ever be considered friends, but he wouldn't mind calling Alfred his acquaintance. They were no longer enemies, even if they didn't really go well together.

Taking another box, Alfred added. "But I still don't like you. I've just found a way to tolerate your presence." Or maybe it was because they had something in common that was eating both of their lives bit by bit.

"Whatever." Ismael grunted, but he still had a small smile on his face. 


	8. Chapter 8

Sitting down at the table in his house, Alfred took another sip of coffee while watching the news. There was nothing more on the TV about the two men that were caught and put in jail to wait for their trial, but he knew that they were still there. It didn't matter for anything else, since they couldn't hurt anyone from there.

Just as he went to turn the TV off, the phone rang shrilly. With a sigh, he picked it up and grunted, fully expecting it to be Ismael since he was the only person he really talked to now. "What is it?"

"Alfred? It's Lili." The blond said. "Um, I'm outside your apartment, could you let me in?" It had been a while since she had been to this building, but she knew she had to come back.

Blinking, his mind went blank for a second before responding. "You're outside? Uh... Just a sec." With that he hung up and went down to the main floor. How come Lili was here? It wasn't like they had talked at all in the last three and a half months, so why did she want to now? Their break up wasn't really messy...

"Hey." He said as he opened the main door. "I'm sorry about when I answered the phone, I just wasn't really expecting it to be you..."

"I need to tell you something." She said quietly, but shutting him up easily. They had only dated about a month before they both realized that they just weren't right for each other, and that had been a bit before Alfred's brother had died. At the time she had tried comforting him, but he had pushed everyone away. Hopefully he wouldn't do that anymore.

Looking at her sideways as they went up the elevator to his apartment, Alfred said. "Ok... What is it?" Just what would she want to talk to him about? Unless it was that her older, intimidating brother wanted his head because he found out Al had sex with his younger sister, then he had no idea.

Standing beside him, Lili looked to her shoes. "Well, um I found out a little after we broke up... I hadn't wanted to tell you because you were dealing with everything that happened with your brother." She was skipping around the subject, hands absentmindedly going to her stomach.

"Yeah... You found out what?" Now it was making him nervous, seeing her get so skittish. After being with a few girls, he knew that looking around and fidgeting never were good things. Ever.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. "Alfred, I'm pregnant." She swallowed, afraid of his reaction. "I-I just thought you should know. I'm not expecting you to pay child support or anything, but you a-are the father, so I wanted you to know..."

"Shit, really?" He asked, his face falling. "Sorry about the language but... Are you sure? We used a condom..." Alfred pulled at his hair, silently glad for the distraction as he opened his door and got them both in. "I mean... That was so long ago..."

Shrugging, Lili entered the apartment. "Yes, I've been to the doctor. It must have happened the last time we had sex, because it has been three and a half months." She sighed, glad she finally got it off her chest. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but I didn't want to trouble you any more."

Getting her to sit down on the couch, Alfred brought up a chair so they could talk face to face without being too close. "I don't know what to say..." He admitted with a small laugh. "I mean, if it's mine of course I'll help however I can but... Lili..." He paused, not quite sure how to phrase what he was thinking. "First of all, does your brother have a headhunt on me?"

Wincing slightly, Lily laughed. "It might be a good idea to stay away from my trailer park for a while, but he has agreed to not go... looking for you." It had been bad enough when they were dating, never mind now that he knew she was pregnant. "But really, you have your life and everything, you don't need to help out."

"Yeah but... Sorry to be blunt, but how are you going to afford having a child? I know I'm not really any better off but at least I can help you..." He really didn't want to live with her since it obviously didn't work but something would work. Alfred stopped before asking. "Do you want any water or something to eat?"

"Pickles, if you have any. I swear these cravings drive me up the wall." She smiled as she rubbed her stomach, which reminded her that she would have to ask Vash to get some strawberries. "But really, you have your own problems. I just wanted to tell you because I thought you should know." Even though they were already worrying about money problems.

Getting up to get the jar of pickles, he took out a few with a fork and put them on a plate for Lili. "Thank you for that, I'm glad you told me and didn't just wait till our kid was born." Wow... He was going to be a father. An unexpected one, but one nonetheless. Handing over the plate, he murmured. "But what kind of a place is it to raise a child in a trailer park? You're only eighteen Lili, and unless you got a better job there's no way you can move out any time soon without some help." Or maybe... Maybe there was something else that could be done.

Sighing, she nodded. "I know. And when the baby is born it will be a while before I can work again. Vash will be there, but..." Then she realized that she was spilling her problems to her ex, and gasped slightly. "I'm sorry, you don't want to hear all this. Thanks for the pickles."

"No prob, but I really don't mind. If you want... I could take care of it." There, he said it. Alfred knew it was rare to never that the man of a bastard child offered to raise the child alone, but being the hero that he always was, he couldn't stand to see how one little mess up would ruin two to potentially four people's lives. If he took care of it, at least then he would know that Lili and Vash would be financially ok for the time being.

Almost choking on her pickle, Lili made sure to put it down before speaking. "What? No Al, I couldn't ask you to do that..." Although she had to admit, raising a kid in this apartment building would be much better than in her trailer park.

Going beside her to rub her back, Alfred had an awkward moment of remembering when they were together before repeating. "Seriously, you don't have to ask me to do anything because I _want_ to do this. I don't want anyone to suffer, and it would work out better if I helped."

Looking at him, Lili bit her lip. "But, do you know anything about babies? I mean I don't really either, but I was hoping on the motherly instinct thing." Even if she was only eighteen, she should still have that, right?

"Not really." He admitted with a half smile. "But, I have about five and a half months to prepare myself." Going back to the chair, he looked briefly at her stomach before smiling softly at her. "I just hope that you don't consider our child as a curse. Yeah it would have been better if we worked out, but life loves to play games."

Shaking her head, Lili rubbed her stomach. "No, it isn't the baby's fault it came at a bad time." She sighed, looking up. "If you are serious about taking him or her, then you have to promise to let me visit, and baby sit and all that."

Leaning back, Alfred asked incredulously. "How could you ever think that I wouldn't let you see your own child? Now _that_ would be cruel. It's not like I'm saying you wouldn't be a great mother, if anything, you would be _amazing_, it's just that your situation isn't the best. Of course I'd let you see him or her." But she sounded like the idea was sinking in, and that was important.

Smiling, she nodded. "So... this is actually going to happen? I mean we have a few months to sort everything out but... you're going to take care of the baby?" Maybe when she got a better job, and her and Vash could afford a better place, the kid could come over for weekends and everything.

"If that's what you want, I'd be glad to take care of our child." The American smiled at Lili. "I can't lie and say that I love you, but it is not a lie when I say that I will love our child to the fullest capacity of my heart. Plus, a hero can never let somebody down once they made a promise." A guilty twinge wracked his heart as he thought of Matthew's last wish, but he quickly pushed it off as being different.

Pausing, she then stood up and went over to him, giving him a big hug. "I'm glad we didn't have a bad break up." They just hadn't been right for each other was all. "This... this is going to work out." She said quietly, optimistic.

Hugging her back with one arm, he smiled. "So am I, but it would have worked out no matter what. You're smart; you would have figured something out." Pausing for a moment as she backed away, he asked. "So... What does it feel like? Have you been getting morning sickness or anything?"

Shrugging, she sat back down. "Not for a while. But you can kind of feel where it is harder, want to feel?" Also, though it wasn't noticeable when she had clothes on, her stomach was starting just barely to start to get rounder.

"Can I?" As Lili had said, it was good that they were still able to talk now that this had happened. "When you go for your next ultrasound, could I come? Or at least see it?" When she raised her shirt a little, Alfred tentatively reached out and touched the small, hard bulge with his fingers.

Nodding, she laughed as he smiled at feeling it. "Maybe not come along, because Vash usually does. But I'll let you have a copy. But... I don't want to find out if it's a boy or a girl. I want it to be a surprise."

Leaning back with a smile, Alfred nodded. "Yeah, I guess that would be for the best if I didn't see him for a while..." Then he looked into her eyes. "And if you don't want to know, I'm not going to force you. You're the mom, and the mom knows best."

Laughing, she ran her fingers through her short hair. "Obviously not, if I can't even take care of the baby. But enough talk about this. How are you feeling?" They hadn't spoken for at least two months, because Alfred had pretty much curled up into his own shell.

Alfred's smile fell a degree. "I'm getting better. I cleaned out Matt's room about a week ago and it's helping me heal." He really didn't want to mention Ismael for some reason, but it was ok with him. He -according to everyone- still hated him, so it would probably surprise Lili that he was hanging around Matt's lover.

Smiling, she nodded. "That's good. I always thought... Oh no, is that the time? Vash is going to be home soon!" She stood up, biting her lip. "I'm sorry, I didn't tell him I was coming here. I really have to go... you can call me any time you want."

Getting up as well, he escorted Lili to the door. "Ok, I'll phone later just to catch up." Thinking for a second, he added. "If anything ever happens to you or our kid, don't hesitate to phone. I want to do whatever I can to help, since I'm not a dick like most guys can be." Well, he honestly wasn't expecting to be a father, but now that it was happening he was strangely ok with it.

"Thanks Al. I'm glad it was you." There were a lot of guys who would be angry at her for being pregnant, if that made any sense. But if was obviously him, because she hadn't been with anyone since.

With a wide smile, they said their goodbyes before Alfred went back inside. He was actually going to be a dad. It really didn't seem like it was possible, but it was happening. Before he could think of just why he was doing it, he grabbed his phone and dialled Ismael's number. After it rang and rang and rang, he didn't bother leaving a message. Where was the bastard if he wasn't home?

Grabbing his coat, Alfred figured it out fairly quickly. Obviously he would be at the cemetery, since he pretty much existed in one of the two places. The plate could be washed later he reckoned as he set out through the snow. It wasn't too bad anymore, but it was still annoying. Matthew was the only reason he put up with it instead of cursing it as usual.

When he was close to the grave, he automatically knew that Ismael wasn't there from the lack of a large shape hovering around it. The new snow had been brushed off so it was obvious that he had been here recently, but the Cuban was no where to be seen. Well, all that left was his house, so Alfred set off for there.

The only real reason he was going to see him is because he needed to tell someone, and he was the only person he was really talking to. Sure there were people at work, but why would they care? Plus Alfred knew that the bastard would have to deal with him sometime anyways, so why not now?

Reaching his house, he looked around before going to the door and almost knocking it down. When there was no answer, he rang the door bell and continued to knock. If he wasn't here, where else would he be? It wasn't like he would be working on a weekend, and there was nowhere else that Alfred could think that he would be. In an act of desperation, he sat down on the steps and made himself comfy. If he wasn't here now, then he would have to return some time.

Getting out of the car, Ismael grabbed his grocery bags before heading to his doorstep. It was then he saw a hunched shape on the step, breathing out clouds of condensation in the cold air. He rolled his eyes, walking up to him. "How long have you been here?"

"Better yet, what took you so long?" He retorted, his teeth chattering slightly. "You weren't at the cemetery and I phoned you so then I decided to wait here." Standing up, Alfred rubbed his hands together. "Are you gonna go inside or do you want both of us to freeze."

Unlocking the door, Ismael waited for Alfred to go inside before putting the bags on the kitchen table. "I have other places to go besides the cemetery and home, you know. Help me put these away and I'll make you a cup of coffee."

Waiting until his fingers became responsive, Alfred started finding homes for all the food Ismael had bought. "It better be good coffee cause you made me wait out there for a while."

"You didn't have to come over. Why are you here, anyway?" Not that it was unusual for him to be here. There had been nights where Alfred had come over, and they hadn't said one word to each other the whole night.

Remembering why he was here, Alfred smiled. "You wouldn't understand being a 'non-breeder' and all, but guess what I just heard?"

Looking up at him, Ismael lifted an eyebrow. "Non-breeder? What the hell do you mean?" Well it was fairly obvious, but he had never heard it used that way before. Usually it was what the gay community called straight people, 'breeders'.

"What do you think I mean?" Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you of all people would know what I meant. But anyways," He continued his grin back. "You probably don't remember her, but my ex just told me she's pregnant and I'm the dad."

Eyes going wide, Ismael almost couldn't believe what he heard. "Haven't you ever heard of condoms? God, I thought you straight guys would be more careful." As long as both parties were free of disease, it was fine for gay guys to do it without one. It was just a bitch to clean up.

Holding up his hands, Alfred explained. "Hey! I always use one thank you very much! I don't know what happened, she just came over and told me that she got tested and the kid was already three and a half months old, which works out to being me. Plus she's not the type to go slut around so I know she's not trying to take advantage of me."

Shaking his head, Ismael opened up the fridge to start putting things in it. "Well, are you gonna marry her? Or are you just gonna pay child support for the rest of your life?" Either would suck, really. But at least he would have a kid. The Cuban knew that for obvious reason he would never have one, and he was kind of disappointed.

"Neither. I'm going to take care of it for her." Alfred stated softly, watching as Ismael turned around. "I suggested it since she's not really in a good situation to be taking care of a kid, and I didn't want to be a douche and abandon my child."

Mouth hanging slightly open, Ismael really couldn't believe what he was hearing this time. He hadn't expected _that_! Once the shock wore off, he sighed, leaning against the counter. "Well, I guess I'll move in, then."

Now it was Alfred's turn to have his mouth hang comically wide. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, his eyebrows knitting together. "What does me having a kid have anything to do with you moving in?"

Shaking his head, Ismael continued putting away the food. "What, you don't think you could take care of a baby by yourself, do you? You obviously came over here, hoping that I would offer to help. Even if you don't realize it." Then he turned around, an easy smile on his face. "And anyway, I've been looking for an excuse to stop smoking."

Feeling the tension ease away at the smile, Alfred shook his head. "You got it all wrong there. I came here just to tell you I was going to be a dad. I don't want you doing anything you don't want to do. Plus, we still 'hate' each other, remember? We can't live together..."

"Sure we can. We don't like each other, but we don't hate each other really. And, unlike with a relationship, our feelings for each other aren't likely to change suddenly and leave one person to take care of the kid." He started making the pot of coffee, now needing some himself. "It would make Matthew happy."

Sitting down at the table, Alfred asked. "Yeah, but you have no reason to do this. You do know what that is gonna look like then, right? Not only are people going to think we're some sort of gay couple, but the baby will cry all the time and need a lot of care and stuff." Pausing, he added in a quieter voice. "Plus we can't keep doing things for Matthew."

Looking at him, Ismael sighed. "Well, what if I'm not doing it for Matthew? What if I'm doing it for the kid?" He got a few mugs, putting them on the table. "And, do you really want to be the only one taking care of a baby? You just said yourself how hard it's gonna be."

Taking the mug between his hands, Alfred stared at it. "But you have no reason to want to. Yeah the help would be nice, but I'm doing this because she would be worse off if she had to take care of our child. She's only eighteen, and her family barely has enough money as it is."

"Eighteen? God Alfred, young enough?" The coffee finished, so he poured some into the cups. "And anyway, as you have already pointed out, it's not like I'm going to have a kid any time soon. This will probably be my only chance." Sure, adoption, but it just wouldn't be the same.

Twitching, Alfred defended himself. "At least she's out of high school and legal!" Still, he continued to stare down at his mug until Ismael reached over and poured coffee into it, making him look up. "Are you sure? I mean... If I get used to the help then you have no way of backing out."

Sitting down with him, Ismael took a gulp of his coffee. "Look, I'm not saying it will be easy. But it'll be a hell of a lot harder if you raise this kid on your own. Just agree already." He was renting his house, so it wasn't like he would have to sell it or anything, so that was good.

Drinking some of the coffee but in a smaller sip, Alfred sighed. "Fine, I just don't want you to be doing this if you don't want to. But... I'm sure Lili will be glad to know that I will have help. As long as you promise to quit smoking." He added with a wry grin.

"Yeah yeah, if I have a reason I'm sure I can." Also, even if he didn't mention this, he had promised Matthew that he would quit one day. But, as Alfred had said, they need to stop doing things for Matthew.

Leaning back in the chair, Alfred said. "Ok, well now that it's settled, I should probably phone her and tell her." He paused, his face blanching. "Maybe you should phone and ask for her instead, then I'll talk to her."

Raising an eyebrow, Ismael thought it would be better not to ask. He handed over the phone and waited for Alfred to put in the number. Then he waited for the rings, and then was surprised at a male voice yelling in his ear. "Um... can I talk to Lili please?"

"Who the hell is this and how do you know Lili?" Vash yelled threateningly into the receiver. "If you're another man trying to take her innocence then you have another thing coming! I'll trace your call and personally dispose of you!"

"Uh... I'm... from her work... and want to talk about... her maternity leave?" She worked right? Hopefully she wasn't going to school, or else he would have just made this angry man even angrier. But there was a small grunt and then a female voice, so he handed the phone to Alfred.

"Hey Lili, sorry about that." Alfred apologized, turning away from Ismael so he could concentrate on the call. "I know we just talked a few hours ago but I wanted to let you know that my... Friend wants to help out. Would you be ok with that?"

Going into her room with a smile to her brother, Lili smiled. "Yes, that would be a good time for my maternity leave. Thank you." Once she was in her room, she let her voice go lower so Vash couldn't hear through the thin walls. "I would like to meet her first. I don't know if I would feel safe with one of your 'friends' raising our kid, because no offence but you don't stay in relationships long."

Looking over to Ismael, he corrected. "Uh, he's a guy and we aren't together by any means. Actually... It's the same guy that Matt was dating before... Yeah." It was pretty much obvious that Lili would know who he was talking about, since it was a common thing for him to rant about the guy that had 'turned' his brother gay.

"In that case I really need to meet him. You didn't exactly paint him in a good light when we were dating." She wouldn't be against having a gay guy help raise her child, as long as he wasn't obvious about it and brought guys over and things. She still wanted her baby to have a good life.

"Yeah, that makes sense; you are the mother after all." Alfred replied, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his blond hair. "But he was the one who offered to move in with me to help, and we've somehow managed to patch things up a bunch."

Nodding, Lili bounced slightly on her bed. Her friend from work would love to hear that her baby was going to be raised by a gay guy. "That's good. But I still need to meet him." Then her brother walked in, and her voice went to the normal pitch again. "Anyways, Mr. Brats, I would really enjoy doing that. And it would be easier on me, since I'm pregnant. See you on Monday!" And hung up.

Hearing the dial tone, Alfred sat back up in the chair and put the phone down before taking another sip of coffee. "Before anything is set in stone, she wants to meet you. Other than that, I think she'll be glad that our kid will have two people taking care of it." Breathing in the smell of the steaming drink, he sighed. "I'm just glad this isn't worse. I've had way worse breakups then I had with her."

"The only guy I ever really dated was Matthew, so I haven't broken up with anyone." Before him, it was mainly one night stands and friends with benefits, and before that he had slept with a few girls, but had only figured out after why he had been disgusted.

With a sigh, Alfred said. "I don't really want to know that, thanks." But it did make him feel better somewhat to know just how careful Ismael was with his brother. Before, all he could think was that he would be really rough with him and Matt just didn't want to tell anyone.

Finishing up his coffee, Ismael put his mug in the sink. "So, when should I meet her? And who was that angry guy that picked up first?"

"Who knows? She had to hang up for some reason." Taking another sip until the mug was empty, he said with a shudder. "And that was the reason you had to phone. It's Lili's older brother Vash... Highly protective and he would probably castrate me and hang it in their trailer if he knew I was the one to knock her up." Well, he probably guessed it, it was just that he didn't know where he was... Yet.

"Why does the fact that someone wants to castrate you not surprise me?" He said with a laugh. Even Matthew would sometimes come to his house, fuming about how stupid his brother was. But he would soon get over it, and run back to his side once again.

Snorting, Alfred got up to get more caffeine. "Because you're a dick and like to see me in pain." Which was quite obviously the truth due to their... Fights.

Ismael silently agreed and sat back down. "Well, give me warning and I promise I will make as good an impression as possible. She needs to approve, right?" It would be a good time to quit smoking. Even if he would really like one at the moment...

"I'll make sure you know, but we're gonna have to wait for approval before the moving train gets into gear." Sitting back down in the living room, Alfred turned Ismael's TV on as if he lived there and dropped the conversation.

They both sat down to watch the screen, having minimal argument over what to watch. Well, minimal for them, meaning it didn't become physical.

* * *

Alright everyone, so yes Lili is Liechtenstein. And we know that Vash is rich and everything but he's not in this one lol. Well, since this chapter was kinda out of the blue, we would like to hear your thoughts!


	9. Chapter 9

After phoning Lili again to make sure that she could get away from her controlling brother, Alfred had dragged Ismael down to one of the coffee shops he used to go to for them to meet. "Now remember, don't act like a pedo or some creepy fuck if you want this to actually happen." He coached the Cuban, sitting down with a coffee for both of them.

"God Al, just because I'm gay doesn't mean I don't know how to talk to girls." He had all of his dread locks back in a pony tail, instead of the few that usually hung out like usual. He also had on better clothes than normal, but nothing too fancy. One thing that bugged him was that he met at least one stereotype of being gay. He knew fashion.

Alfred had barely raised the mug to his lips before the bell dinged, signalling someone was entering the shop. Looking over, he grinned widely before setting it down to stand up. "Hey Lili? How have you been the last couple of days?" He asked, going over to give her a friendly hug.

Smiling, she hugged back. "I've been fine. I'm showing a little more, see?" She said, tucking her dress under her slightly swollen belly. "He's growing fast. I can tell he will take after his daddy."

Raising an eyebrow, Alfred asked. "I thought you said you didn't want to know if it was a boy or a girl?" He agreed, since it wouldn't make them biased for the baby, but it would be amazing to have a boy!

Laughing, she shook her head. "I haven't asked. It's just that... I can tell." She sat down at the seat that was obviously meant for her, and held her hand out to the other man. "Hi, I'm Lili. You must be Ismael?" She was about to say she had heard a lot about him, but decided against that since it was mostly from Alfred when they were dating. They hadn't been very good things.

Taking the hand, Ismael smiled. "Wow, I can't believe Alfred was so lucky to get someone as beautiful as you. And yet he let you go." It was true, he could tell she was pretty. It was more of an admission of something so obvious than attraction. She had boobs, so already that turned him off, not to mention all the makeup and the general girly look to her. But she was still pretty.

As Lili blushed and looked to her lap in embarrassment, Alfred just slapped Ismael's shoulder. "Hey! What was that for?" It was more of a mutual agreement that they weren't working out, since Alfred enjoyed going out much more than she did, or at least he did before Matthew passed away.

"I'm just saying it like I see it. And I also see wonderful maternity clothes. Is it from Baby & Me, by chance?" So what if he was playing up the whole gay best friend thing. If it got her to like him, then he was fine with it, no matter how much Alfred would bug him about it later.

Her mouth going into a little 'o', she exclaimed. "How did you know?" Was he really that fashion-conscious? Looking over to Alfred, she smiled. Already she liked him, even if the dread locks were a little bit strange. If Matthew liked him and Al was learning to, then he was obvious a good guy.

Grinning, Ismael handed her a cup of steamed milk, since they didn't want her drinking coffee. "Some of these things you just need to know. So, how does it feel, being pregnant?" He enjoyed this, even if he was acting a little bit. He could tell she was a nice girl.

Not noticing how Alfred was looking at him strangely, she said with a smile. "It feels strange, but I think it will be a lot different when I look like I have a watermelon in my stomach." With a small laugh, she added. "The morning sickness isn't very fun, but Vash has been really kind to me when I get sick."

"You aren't having any other complications though, right?" Alfred asked, not wanting to be outdone by Ismael, since he was the father after all.

Shaking her head, she took a sip of the warm drink. "No, and I've been taking care of myself. Vash wouldn't let me do anything bad for the baby, anyway." Even if he had been furious when she had told him, he was turning out to be a really big help.

Nodding once, he took a sip of his coffee and sighed pleasantly. "So yeah... This is Ismael and as you can tell, we don't want each other hurt anymore." _As much..._ "He's the one that wanted to do this so I'm not forcing anything on him, right?" Al asked the Cuban.

"Of course not. I love kids, and for obvious reasons can't have one of my own." Then he grinned, elbowing Alfred lightly in the stomach. "And this guy will need as much help as he can get, right?"

Watching as Alfred nudged Ismael back with a small pout instead of full on beating him up, Lili smiled again. If Alfred wasn't going to admit that they actually had a truce, then she would just have to keep their secret. "It would make me feel more comfortable... Plus I don't mind if our son is raised by two men. Elizabeth will be so impressed!"

With a shudder, Alfred clarified. "We aren't together though! I'm still all for girls, but I haven't really been doing anything after everything with Matt, and I promise I won't with our child around."

Jumping in, Ismael nodded. "And I won't with men either. So your kid will not be like scarred or anything." Honestly, he wasn't sure if he could ever be with a man again, emotionally. That sounded cliche, but he had no desire to get to know someone else the way he had with Matthew.

"He better not be..." Alfred grumbled, crossing his arms for a moment, before turning back to Lili. "So does that sound good? Is there anything else that you want to make sure does or doesn't happen?"

Mouth set, she looked to Ismael. "When Alfred and I were together, he said you smoked. What are you going to do about that?" If he still did, she would need a full game plan on how he was planning to quit, either that or a signed document swearing that he would have to be a mile away from the house if he smoked.

Giving one nod, Ismael turned serious. "I have already started. I'm on the patch, and have looked into support groups. I haven't had a cigarette for five days." Even if he had been really tempted, but this was more important.

"Don't worry, I'll beat him up if he even looks at a cigarette sideways." Alfred promised her, suddenly wanting to feel the small bump that would eventually become their child. Just as long as he didn't hate them for not being together still, he would make sure the kid loved them both.

"I'm glad. Well, you convinced me, Ismael I leave my baby in your hands." Then she smiled, looking down to the table in embarrassment. "Would... you like to go shopping with me?"

Laughing, Ismael finished up his coffee. "I would love to." He stood up and helped her from her chair. "Al, I really don't care what you do. See ya."

Glaring as Ismael walked out with his ex, Alfred grumbled to himself. "Fucking suckup. I bet he doesn't even _like_ shopping." Finishing his coffee, he decided to go over to Ismael's house with a pair of gloves and wait to ambush him with a snowball war.

.oOo.

Carrying a heavy bag, Ismael finally walked into Alfred's apartment. "God, why do you have to live so far away from the elevator? This sucks!"

"No complaining. You're the one that wanted to move here and not just find a different place so deal with it." Alfred grunted as he tried to get his key in the door while holding a box. "Plus it's exercise."

Rolling his eyes, the Cuban mumbled something about muscle head before pushing his way into the apartment. "At least I could get rid of most of my stuff. It wouldn't all fit in here." It had been almost two months since he had met Lili, and since then she had grown rounder. It was a joy to see, really.

Getting in, he set the box down on the floor in the living room and stretched. "Now for the rest of your shit." He stated, going back out to grab Ismael's things. It was going to be really weird for them to be living together, but they had pretty much been around each other since Matt's death anyways.

"Yeah, you go get it and I'll find a place for this." He heard the blond go out the door and started making his way to Matthew's old room. There were only two bedrooms, so he figured this would be where he was staying. Which is why he dropped everything in surprise when he opened the door and saw... light blue walls, with toy train stickers on them.

Holding as much as he could while still being able to see where he was going, Alfred put the things down and looked around in confusion. Seeing the open door to Matthew's old room, he saw Ismael touching the crib that he had placed there just a week ago. "So I guess you saw before I could formally show you, huh?" He asked with a small smile.

Turning around, Ismael smiled. "It's perfect. Not what I was expecting but... it just feels right." Obviously it wasn't finished, because all there was so far was the crib, but they still had a few months to get everything... this room would be put to a good use.

"I'm glad you think so... I figured it wouldn't be too terrible if we had to paint again if it's a girl, since the stickers come off." Plus blue was such a calming colour anyways opposed to pink. Standing there for a second, he shook his head to dispel the mushy aura. "We need a place for your crap."

Jolting out of his reminiscing, Ismael nodded. "Yeah, where will I sleep?" Maybe he had gotten a bed for him? Just a small one would be fine, like maybe in the office.

Looking to the ground, Alfred muttered. "Well, we only have one bed..." Leaving it at that, he went back out to the living room and turned the TV on to relax.

"Ok." So at least for a little while, they would be sleeping together. Well, as long as neither of them mentioned the fact that they had actually had sex three times, it shouldn't be too awkward. He started taking his things into Alfred's room.

Watching Ismael out of the corner of his eye, Alfred thought it was weird that he was putting his stuff in there but didn't say anything. "Did everything go over with terminating your rent contract?" He yelled out over the hockey game that was on the TV. It was nearing the end of the season, but it still hurt to watch

"Obviously, since I'm moving in here." He came back out, and heard the sounds of the hockey game. "Who's playing?" Even if they lived in America, Matthew had gotten him to watch Canadian hockey, saying it was the best. He had to admit, it was.

"Look at the screen idiot." He mumbled as the Cuban sat down beside him. "So pillows are in the spare room and you probably should watch out for the spring that likes to poke through in the middle cushion."

Sitting down, it took Ismael a minute to understand what he was implying. "What? You're going to make me sleep on the couch?" Sure, for one night, but he was moving in here! How could he be expected to sleep on the couch!

Raising an eyebrow, Alfred looked at him. "What did you think I would do? Let you sleep with me? Hell no!" He exclaimed. "I wouldn't feel safe knowing a butt pirate that had already managed to fuck me was right there!"

Hiding his face in his hand, Ismael groaned. "Could we please not mention that? I was trying to forget it." Damn, it was too bad his old bed would be way too big in this small apartment.

"You seriously think that I'd want to remember that?" Alfred asked, turning his attention to the screen. "I guess I didn't really think about it too hard but there's no where else to sleep. We can find a bed for you later I suppose."

"Whatever. I don't want to talk right now." He leaned back, letting his head fall back on the couch. Ismael just wanted to not think about what was going to happen to his life, living with this guy for who knew how long.


	10. Chapter 10

"You know what's funny?" Alfred asked Ismael as they watched some fashion show. "Pirates of the Caribbean." He grinned widely, leaning back on the couch with his hands behind his head. They had been living together for the last few months and had managed to get into a routine. As Lili became more and more prominently pregnant, Alfred became more excited and nervous to be a father while Ismael just took her shopping and other 'gay' things.

Rolling his eyes, Ismael changed the channel when it turned to a commercial. "It's not funny, it's fucking sexy. Those pirate suits look so good on them." Especially that last scene of the last movie. "But why do you suddenly bring it up?"

Laughing to himself, Alfred pointed at him. "Exactly that! You're from Cuba right?" Before he could get a confirmation, he continued. "And they are in the Caribbean. And you're from there. Well, it's obvious they're all gay for each other since it would get lonely on a boat, so that's where butt pirates comes from!" He finished, laughing again and he took the remote from his hand and turned it to a soccer game.

Elbowing him, Ismael got the remote back, and just to piss him off turned it to Sex in the City. He hated it, but knew that Alfred hated it more. "That's a movie. Not real life, idiot." They really should get a new second TV, because they both liked different shows, and were always fighting over what to watch.

"No duh, but they base movies off real life. Why else did they make all the pirates look gay?" Elbowing Ismael back, he took the remote with a triumphant smirk. "There's no way I'm watching this show unless there's actual sex and not just bitches whining about it."

"Whatever. Oh, and by the way, you didn't wash your dishes this morning. How many times have I told you not to leave them in the sink?" It was so annoying sometimes, since they had such different life styles.

With a shrug, Alfred turned it to some action movie. "So? Why should I care what I do? It's my house: I can do what I want." Thinking the conversation was over, he turned his attention back to the TV. "You're not my dad so stop acting like it."

Glaring at him slightly, Ismael stood up and took the remote back, turning off the TV and throwing the small device across the room. "It's not your house, it's ours. I pay half of the rent, if you don't remember! And soon, there will be someone else living here too."

"What the fuck!" He yelled, standing up to be on the same level as Ismael. "I didn't ask you to come here you know! I would have been perfectly fine being a dad on my own!" Alfred didn't need Ismael's help, he just decided it would be beneficial and if Lili liked him, it all worked out. "And I'm my own person who does things how I want to do them."

Snarling, Ismael started pacing. God damn, not another one of their fights. "How do you plan on being a dad when you're not even responsible enough to clean your fucking dishes? What, did Matthew always do them for you?"

With a growl, Alfred went over to him and grabbed a hold of his collar to stop him from pacing. "So what if he did? I always told him not to bother, but he did anyways. This kid is going to help me to be a better person, and I don't want you to fucking intervene if you are going to freak out at me like my dad did all the time. I don't want my son to know that."

"Maybe your dad had a point. You shouldn't be raising a kid to become a better person, you should be raising a kid to make _them_ a better person!" Ismael grabbed Alfred's collar as well, so they were both glaring at each other, neither giving an inch.

Tightening his grip, Alfred spat. "You knew what I fucking meant you bastard! You keep twisting my words to sound-" Suddenly the phone started to ring, causing him to look at it with a death glare before letting go with a push to pick it up. "What?" He answered angrily, not wanting to deal with a telemarketer right now.

Seconds later, all anger slipped off his face to be replaced by his mouth wide open. "O-Ok! Just wait a few minutes and you'll be ok! Don't forget to breath!" He said hurriedly before hanging up.

"Lili's in labour!" He stressed, running to get his car keys. "What are you waiting for, you oaf?"

"She is? But she's not due for another week!" All thoughts of the fight behind them, Ismael grabbed his wallet before going after him to the car outside. "The hospital isn't far from here, you don't have to run!" He yelled to him, getting in the passenger seat.

Turning around with an exasperated sigh, Alfred yelled. "She's not at the hospital yet you dumbass, that's why we need the car! And I know she's a week early, but we need to drive her to the hospital cause her bro isn't there right now!" He had continued to walk as he explained, getting into the car and fumbling with the keys to place it in the ignition.

Eyes going wide, Ismael did up his seat belt. "Holy shit! Hurry!" He yelled, just as the car was thrown into gear and tore out onto the road. "How long does it take to get to her place?" He had never been there, because of her brother.

"Ten minutes if I'm from 'Driving Miss Daisy', three for 'Fast and the Furious'." Alfred said, buckling up as they sped down the avenue. "Let's just hope that her brother doesn't get home after us or we're gonna need to go to the hospital as well."

Seeing a yellow light ahead, the Cuban pointed. "Go faster you can make it!" But soon after the light, they both heard the siren of the police man coming up behind them.

Alfred groaned. "Fuck really?" He swore again under his breath as he regretfully pulled over. "This is not my day... Quick! Look like you're dying or something!" He ordered Ismael, his eyes going wide.

Rolling his eyes, Ismael just sat back in the seat, banging his head against the back. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck..." He kept mumbling under his breath.

Knocking on the door, the officer sighed. "Do you know how fast you were going? Plus you ran that red light back there."

"I'm sorry sir, but my friend's in labour and we have to get to the hospital!" Alfred explained, trying to make the officer feel bad or at least let them go with a warning.

Raising an eyebrow, the police man looked in the passenger seat, seeing the large man with dread locks. "Uh huh, sure he is."

"Not him! We have to go pick my girlfriend up - well, my ex but that isn't important right now - and take her to the hospital!" Alfred pouted, his body just wanting to start the car and drive away in a flash. They had already wasted enough time here and Lili was all by herself!

Sighing, the officer checked his watch. It was almost the end of his shift anyway. "Fine, I guess I will give you a police escort, but if there isn't a pregnant girl at the end, you will see me give birth to a speeding ticket."

Giving a big sigh, Alfred grinned. "Follow us officer." As soon as the cop was out of view, he started the car and sped off once again. "Fuck that was close." He commented calmly, swerving between a bunch of cars.

"Yeah, good job idiot. Couldn't have just said the aliens were coming?" But at least they were once again on their way, and thanks to the police car they didn't have to deal with traffic.

Scoffing, Alfred checked his watch and then quickly swerved out of the way of another potential accident. "And risk getting some ridiculously expensive ticket and having to pay hospital fees? Shit, everything is ready for the baby, right?"

Looking in the back seat, Ismael saw the bag they had packed about a month ago, with blankets and such. "Yeah, we bought diapers last week and we have the things in the bag." Plus the baby's room was finished so it should be good. He watched as they pulled into a rundown trailer park.

"Good." Pulling into the driveway with the police car behind him, Alfred barely recognized the fact that the neighbors were looking at them before running to the door and almost knocking it down. "Lili! Lili, I'm sorry it took us so long!" Checking the door he found it to be open and immediately went to her side as she was breathing heavily on the couch.

Holding her stomach, Lili looked up and smiled as her contraction ended. "Thank god you're here! Al, I'm so scared!" She grabbed his hand, and he pulled her to a standing position. "Vash went to the next town, for a client, I already called him and he is going to try to be at the hospital and..."

Mouth open a little, the officer stood in the door. "Holy crap, she's in labour!" He didn't know what to do, and ended up just standing there in shock.

"Not to be offensive officer, but holy crap you're observant." Alfred mocked, doing his best to support Lili. "Do you have a bag packed with some clothes?" He asked her as they got to the car. Ismael was already in the back seat, ready to keep Lili calm as they went to the hospital.

"Oh yeah it's by the door!" She had completely forgotten about it in her rush, and watched as Ismael ran to go get it and returned a moment later. Just as he came back in the car, she grabbed his hand and squeezed as another contraction came on.

Seeing his ex tense up, Alfred determinedly turned to the cop. "So are you gonna follow us or what? Cause she really needs to get to the hospital." With a shake of the other man's head, he slid into the drivers seat and started up the car only to speed out of the trailer park. "Keep breathing Lili, we're gonna get there soon." The American said, trying to keep his voice calm despite all the thoughts running through his head.

Even though his hand was being squeezed painfully, Ismael continued trying to help her with comforting words. Of course it didn't help that Alfred was driving like a maniac, but that's why they got to the hospital in six minutes.

"I-I'm sorry Ismael." Lili hissed, squeezing the hand and her eyes shut as her contraction washed over her and left her shaking. "I don't know why I'm in labour now... It wasn't supposed to be for at least a week..."

Shaking his head, the Cuban helped her into the wheelchair Al had just rushed over. "It's alright, the baby just wants out now. Maybe he's just as impatient as his father." Over the past few months, they had all grown to speak of the baby as if it were a boy, because of Lili's suspicions. But, they would still be happy with a girl.

Narrowing his eyes, Alfred decided to let the comment slide so that he wouldn't make the mother of his child even more stressed. "It really is ok Lili, but let's wait until a doctor sees you to let it out." With a small, awkward laugh he went up to the receptionist and was told what room to go into.

Pushing the chair, Ismael patted her shoulder. "It's going to be fine, don't worry. And Vash will probably be here before the baby comes, so you will have him as well." Since labour usually went on for a few hours anyway. But he didn't want to mention that, or else she would realize just how long these things take.

Glad that it didn't seem as if another contraction would hit for at least ten more minutes, Lili gently squeezed his hand. "Thank you Ismael... I just want everything to work out."

"It will, it will. Maybe we should be telling that to Alfred, though. He looks white as a sheet." He looked over to the American, who was tapping the railing in the elevator, while holding it with a death grip in his other hand.

Turning to the other two people in the elevator, Alfred said. "I'm fine! And Lili is going to be fine too!" He repeated it to himself as well, desperately wishing he could have at least gone to one pregnancy class with Lili instead of her brother going all the time. Damn over protective brother having to get in the way all the time...

Both Ismael and Lili laughed at that, until she got another contraction. The elevator doors pinged open just as it finished. "Alright, where did the lady say her room was? God this place is so confusing..." Random hallways everywhere.

"Uh... This way!" Alfred yelled and pointed towards where he thought it might be. All the rooms just confused him anyways all the sounds of babies crying made him all the more anxious. "Seriously, it has to be here!" He said to himself again, looking around frantically.

Rolling his eyes, Ismael started running his fingers through Lili's hair. "Do you remember the number at least? Seriously, you're going to be a dad today and you don't even know the room we're going in?" But he wasn't using a harsh tone of voice, since they weren't angry at each other anymore.

Looking around again, he paced around the wheelchair. "I did remember it! I just forgot cause I'm just a bit freaked out right now!" Gazing back to Lili, he added. "I'm sorry, I don't want you to get all worked up..." But seriously! He did remember...

Smiling, a nurse came up to them. "Are you looking for the labour and delivery rooms? You can just follow me." She started walking in the direction of the rooms, smiling behind her at them. "Who is your doctor?"

Thinking for a second, Alfred told the nurse and she took the three of them to their room. "Can you get up, or would you like us to help?" Alfred asked, looking at Lili who was already getting tired from her increasingly constant contractions.

"I-I can get up, it's fine..." She pushed herself from the wheel chair, and climbed on the bed. "They couldn't make these things more comfortable, could they?" She wondered aloud, wishing she was at home. Everything was better when you were at home.

"You'll be ok..." Alfred murmured, pushing her short hair out of her eyes. "So um... I'm gonna go get some water. Do you want anything Ismael?" He asked, needing to get out of the room for a few moments before the actual birth to help calm himself down after the big rush it took to actually get here.

Shaking his head, Ismael grabbed a chair and pulled it to the bed, and once again sacrificed his hand so she would have something to hold on to when she got her contractions. Soon Lili was asking for drugs, and the Cuban left the room as the doctor checked how dilated she was.

As soon as he left the room, Alfred allowed his facade to fall as he paced furiously outside the door. Pulling at his hair, he mumbled. "I'm gonna be a dad... I'm gonna be a dad..." Over and over again, trying to get the notion to actually set in his mind. Before he could go insane, he went to get a cup of water and drank it all before going back to the room to see Lili in the middle of another contraction and a doctor checking 'down there' to see if she was big enough.

"Alright, you still have a few more centimeters to go, but everything seems to be working fine. We can give you an epidural now if you want." The doctor smiled kindly at her, knowing what she was going through since he dealt with it every day. Not to mention he was with his wife when she gave birth.

"Yes please!" She gasped, her breath coming in short bursts as her body was wracked with pain. Hopefully the medicine would make this at least a little bit more bearable so she would stop feeling like she was being torn in two.

The doctor started getting it ready, and helped her sit up. Soon, Lili was lying in her bed with a small smile on her face. "This is better. Alfred, can you get me a chocolate bar?" Could she even have a chocolate bar in the hospital? Hell, who cared.

Looking around, Alfred rubbed the back of his head. "Uh... I don't think I can get you one..." He _really_ hoped that didn't induce the feared 'woman giving birth' rage, but he really didn't think it would be good for the baby or Lili right now. "How about... You think of what our baby's nickname will be." There, something to keep her mind off the pain... Hopefully.

"I don't care right now! Fine, give me a phone and I will ask Vash to pick me up one. He should be here soon." She looked to Ismael, who came back in the room now that the doctor was gone. "And maybe he could pick up some cheese too..."

"I'm sorry Lili, but..." Giving up, he sighed. "Ok, I'm going to go talk to the doctor and see if you're allowed to eat anything." He had no idea what she could and couldn't eat before giving birth. "If you hurt, I give you permission to squeeze the life out of Ismael's hand."

Pouting, Ismael shouted after him, "I hope you slip on a banana peal!" Then he turned back to Lili, seeing her laughing at their exchange. "Do you want me to call your brother for you and ask when he should get here?" Though he was a little afraid to meet the person who owned that angry voice.

Looking down at her belly, she nodded. "If you can please. I don't want anyone to fight, so he might stay civil around you two." Plus she had told him Alfred was the father and that Ismael and he were taking care of the child.

Nodding, Ismael handed over his phone so she could punch in the numbers, before putting it to his ear. It rang three times, and as soon as it was picked up he heard honking car horns. "Um, hello? This is Lili's brother, right?"

"Of course it is! HEY BUDDY DON'T MAKE ME TAKE OUT MY AK47! I MAY BE NEUTRAL BUT I WILL NEUTRALIZE YOUR ASS!" More honking, and something that sounded suspiciously like metal grinding against metal. "Sorry, traffic is backed up, cause some ASS went and got in an accident! I should be there in about an hour!"

Watching Ismael murmur a few more words before hanging up, Lili asked. "What did he say?" All she heard was yelling, but he didn't look upset so he couldn't have been yelling at him.

"He'll be here in about an hour. Or earlier if he tries to drive over the cars in front of him and ends up in an ambulance, which it sounded like he was about to do." Vash was certainly quite a character, but it was obvious he really cared about Lili, so Ismael figured he was alright.

Just then Alfred walked back into the room. "Sorry, but they don't think you should eat just yet..." He pleaded for her to understand in his mind since he wouldn't go against the word of the doctors. "So... Any word from Vash?" Oh god, he was finally going to see the crazy son of a bitch again.

Nodding his head, Ismael sat down on the chair again. "Should be here in about an hour. Why, scared?" He sneered slightly, then laughed. Grabbing Lili's hand, he tried to help her calm down, although it seemed like the drugs were doing a pretty good job of that.

"I'm not scared of him... Just of his guns." Because the man was notorious for having guns with him at all hours of the day. "And of being alone with him, but I'm not going to let that happen." Wanting to get away from that topic, he asked Lili. "How is the pain?"

Laughing, she let her head fall back onto the pillow. "What pain? I can hardly feel a thing!" Hopefully it would be like this through the whole delivery, but she had a sinking suspicion that it would get worse. Oh well, she was alright for the moment. "I'm gonna have a nap."

"Alright, we'll be right here." The Cuban smiled down at her as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

So, next chapter is the delivery! And the last chapter. So yeah this is almost finished, everyone! Anyway, I just failed my driving test because of a stupid little school zone. Who slows down for those things anyway?


	11. Chapter 11

An hour and fifteen minutes later, a man with the same hair cut as Lili came running into the room. "How is she? Am I too late? I would have been here earlier, but they found my gun at the door and had to search me, the idiots."

Letting out a sigh, Alfred ran his hand through his hair with an awkward laugh. "H-Hey Vash... Long time no see..." Making sure he was behind her on the other side of the room, he added. "She's been sleeping for the last hour, but she's getting closer to birth."

Grasping at his hip where his hand gun _used_ to be, the Swiss man looked at him. "Fine. I can take it from here." He didn't want these bastards in the room when she gave birth, especially not Alfred. He didn't particularly have any bias about the one with the dread locks, but he was with Alfred so he would regret it if he came too close.

"I can't go now!" America exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down for Lili. "Not when she's so close!" Plus the fact that he would be taking care of the child from after the birth, but he didn't want to say anything in case she hadn't mentioned it to her gun-crazy 'neutral' brother.

Snorting angrily, Vash sat down. Of course, he couldn't _force _him out, since he was actually the father... "Fine, you can stay. But you," He looked to Ismael now, and gestured towards the door. "You can wait until the baby is born."

Nodding, Ismael didn't feel like explaining that he had planned to wait out there when she started the delivery. Glancing to Alfred, he gave a small smile. "Come get me when the baby is here. I'll be in the waiting room."

Holding back his irrational fear of the other blond, he nodded. "Don't go too far cause I'm not going to go looking for you." Which was the truth, since he would want to hold his son -or daughter- as soon as he was born.

Before he closed the door, Ismael sent one last look Al's way, that clearly said 'Good luck'. Even though Vash was much smaller than he had imagined, he was sure scary, even when he wasn't carrying a gun. Deciding he didn't want to wait for hours in a stiff plastic chair, he headed to the cafeteria.

It wasn't long until Lili woke up gasping in pain once again, having the two men urge a doctor to come in and look at her. Judging her ready for childbirth, they quickly set up and sacrificed their hands for the soon to be mother.

"It's ok Lili, just keep pushing and don't forget to breath!" Alfred encouraged, unable to look away as the doctor cradled the head of their child in his hands. A minute later and the shoulders were free, letting the baby slide out of her womb.

After that, Alfred's mind went on auto pilot as their child was wrapped up and such before being placed in it's mother's arms. Unable to wait, he went outside and smiled widely at Ismael. "We have a son."

Eyes going wide, the Cuban stood up and grinned. "Really? Everything went alright?" He waited for the nod and then stepped forward. "Can... Can I see him?" God, the baby was here, and Lili's maternal instincts had been right about the gender!

Going back into the room quietly, Alfred watched in awe as Lili smiled tiredly down at their newborn boy. Gazing between Vash, Ismael and back to her, he asked quietly. "So... What's his name?"

*5 years later*

Pulling on a shirt, Ismael sighed. He really hated work, but he needed to do it. With three people in the house, they ate a lot of food and for a while now he had been in charge of that, since Alfred was horrible at cooking. The door opened and three foot tall blond boy came running in and attached himself to his leg. "Hey, shouldn't you be brushing your teeth, little man?"

Shaking his head, he looked up at Ismael. "Nuh uh! Dad said that if I could find you first I didn't have to!"

Hearing his son, Alfred just laughed. "I said you didn't need to brush your teeth right away if you caught him first, not never."

Rolling his eyes, Ismael picked up the kid. "I don't see what finding me has to do with brushing your teeth. I guess we will just have to brush them together, so your father's bad ideas can't do anything to your teeth, right?"

"I don't want to Papa!" The small boy whined, hiding in Ismael's dreadlocks that were hanging around his face. "I don't wanna go to school..."

"Aw, now don't be like that. I know it's your first day, but you'll make friends. Even someone as annoying as your father made friends in school." Hopefully Alfred was getting the boy's lunch ready, because he wouldn't have time.

Going quiet, the five year old pouted. "No one liked me in preschool..."

Returning to the duo, Alfred watched as 'their' son brushed his teeth before handing him his lunch. "I think everyone will love you, after all, we do!" He comforted his child, rubbing his hair fondly.

Nodding, Ismael grabbed his own tooth brush. When they were finished, they both spit out into the sink and smiled. "Alright, breakfast is eaten, clothes are put on, and teeth are brushed. Kiss Daddy goodbye and we'll get going." Luckily he worked close to the school, so it was easy to drive him there.

Smiling as his son giggled at the small peck on the lips, Alfred ruffled his soft blond hair once more before kissing him on the forehead. "You'll have so much fun in kindergarten! Don't forget that Daddy loves you!" Waving as they got into the car, he called out. "Bye bye Matthew!"

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Well, that's the end! We figured that it was a really good way to end it, because yeah lol. Review and tell us what you all thought about the story!


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